Lines on Paper
by EmberlynEalise
Summary: "You know she's falling for you, little bro," Em comments as if I need the reminder. "Yeah, I know." "Doesn't change anything though, does it?" He knows the answer to that as well. "Doesn't change anything." "I miss you," he says. I pretend to be asleep.
1. Life's Not Fair

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

In the crowded lunchroom of Madame's Alternative Academy sits a young girl staring out the window beside her while aimlessly doodling on a scratch pad with her left hand. There are other people around. Jessica Stanley talks animatedly to Mike Newton about the up coming Sadie Hawkins dance she and Lauren Mallory have planned. It's just another silly reason for them to pursue boys who otherwise would not give them a moment's attention. Angela Webber snuggles against Ben Chaney possible giving him the cold he is nursing her to get through. How chivalrous of him.

Above all there is one who stands out to me when she tries hard just to blend in, the resident outcast since eighth grade, Isabella Swan. She sits alone everyday much like I do. One would think that as misfits we would gravitate toward one another in a way of giving the finger to society but we don't. I'm undeserving of what little I already allow myself. To corrupt her alongside me would be unforgivable.

Instead I watch her from afar. "Man, if your don't get over there and snatch her up I'm going to have to do it myself," the buffoon next to me teases stealing the last chicken tender off my plate as if to demonstrate just how he would go about it.

I stab at the place where his hand had been moments before but he already has the piece in his mouth and is chewing with a wild grin. The sight is nauseating in itself. I want to remind him that our mother raised him better than that but seeing as how I am her greatest disappointment to date I find it hard to reprimand him.

With the absence of the chicken I move to stabbing at the last available tater-tot. Emmett's healthy appetite has rendered me near anorexic though I do enjoy when he eats all the things I don't like. "She'd be better off with you anyway," I mutter stuffing the treat into my mouth and chewing it behind closed lips the way I wish Emmett would.

He laughs with the last bit of chicken still tucked into his cheek. "No joke, little bro. I do know how to treat a lady to a good time." He wiggles his eyebrows and nudges my ribs suggestively to convey the meaning behind his words as though it could have been lost of me. As subtle as Emmett is his meaning could not have been lost on anyone. "I prefer the blonds though. You know me. Give me a tiny waist with a smokin' ass and I'll take it in a heartbeat but put a blond wig on it and I'm in love."

This is true. My brother has a week spot for the yellow haired beauties though the ones Madame has to offer are less than ideal. They're pretty enough but never up to his standards. He's waiting for some playboy model to walk right out of a dirty magazine and into his bed. I try to tell him it'll never happen here but he refuses to move on. I take a little offense to it but not much. Just because her chocolate hair has been a great source of pleasure to me does not mean my brother has to feel the same. If I'm to be honest with myself I'm sure it would be awkward if he did.

In true second rate spy fashion Emmett coughs loudly to alert me of an approaching visitor. It's not necessary since I can see Tyler Crowly in my peripheral as he meanders over to her table. Snickers behind me alert me to the fact that this is a set up of some sort. All gossiping has ceased. Isabella sighs as she leans further against the seat, possibly able to see his reflection in the glass. It's obvious that she had only just gotten comfortable moments before.

"What do you want, Tyler?" she questions in a bored tone not giving him the chance to say a word or the courtesy of taking her attention from the outside world. It is a wonder she can look out the window at all. The bars have always depressed me.

"Is it that time of the month already?" he asked steering into her line of sight. "And here I was thinking you might like the opportunity to ask me to accompany you to the formal. Unfortunately for you I don't swim up the red river."

His crude words have Emmett getting worked up much more easily than I. "You had better do something about him," he warns, "He's asking for it." He is indeed but its not my place to play savior.

"Just go," she whispers closing her eyes for a moment. He has taken he view from her and it's easy to see she'd rather stare at nothing at all than to be forced to look at him. Her hand is still moving in a circular motion across the page.

"You don't want that, love," he sneers, "We both know you don't want to be alone and since I'm the only company you'll ever get you might want to be nice."

There's a sense of malice in his tone and as he kneels to brush a finger along her jaw line I feel Emmett's anger worsen. "Edward," he warns again.

Isabella opens her eyes to roll them but does not remove the hand that now holds her chin. "You know Tyler, you should probably get some new material. What's next? Are you going to club me over the head caveman style and drag me through the dirt by my hair?" she snaps, "How chivalrous of you," she states grabbing his chin the same way he has hers and giving it a small shake.

"What a smart mouthed little bitch you've become," he smirks pulling away from her and letting her go at the same time. She doesn't answer, just looks back out the window. She has already said more on this first day of class than she did all last year. "Cat got your tongue?" Tyler asked.

"Just go," she pleaded once more. "You've had your fun, played your little game. Now just go."

"No can do, love. You've insulted my pride in front of all my friends," he gestured to the 30 or so students occupying the dining hall. All are sitting as far from her as possible. He sits down beside her and she immediately stands to leave. Quick as a flash his arm goes out to grip her wrist and hold her in place. "Didn't think I would just let that slide did you?"

Emmett has had enough of this. He jumps up from where we sit and begins to yell across the room. "Listen here, Asshole," he starts and I flush red with anger at all of them.

"Shut the fuck up, man," I match him in volume and tone as I gather my books and tray off they table, "I don't want to hear anymore of your bullshit. What the hell are you going to do about it anyway?" I dump what meager food was left on my tray while all eyes turn from Isabella to Emmett and me.

His face was livid at me this time. "So this is how it's going to be, huh? Can't stand up for the girl of your dreams but you think you've got the balls to put me in my place?" he spits on the floor and rolls up the long sleeves of his white button up. He's tensed and ready for a fight. i don't have it in me to pretend to fear him as he places his fists in front of him in a defensive stance.

"Yeah, that's how it's going to be. What are you going to do about it?" I shout. He looks saddened and puts his fists down, "That's what I thought, nothing. You can't do shit."

It isn't fair to act the way I do to him but life's not fair. We stand there staring at each other for a few minutes. The tables are still filled with nosy adolescents staring at the latest source for entertainment. Carmen Lenore is still practically falling out of her chair having never seen Emmett and I argue before though most everyone else is used to it after last year. At least I thought they were.

Em has calmed down for the most part and in turn I have too. I blink a few times to get myself under control as I watch him unroll his sleeves and shake his head with that all knowing grin that tortures me so, "That shirt makes you look like a douche bag," I comment earning a chuckle from the big guy.

"Oh yeah?" he looks up at me, "Well, you're face makes you look like a queer."

I start to laugh despite knowing that a part of Emmett honestly wonders if I am gay. Some times I wonder myself. The thought is easily put to rest when I remind myself that I have no sexual preference. I hate them all equally.

"They're staring at you, you know," he tells me. I don't have to look around to know it's true. I nod then riffle through my books to find my schedule. "So, what's next?"

I sigh, "Biology again. Maybe this year I'll stand a chance of passing." Last year I'd failed miserably when Mr. Banner accused me of cheating constantly even after Emmett swore to him that we weren't, that we were just talking after I had finished. I doubt that this year will be different but Emmett's optimistic.

I stuff my schedule back into my notebook and we exit the dining hall side by side pretending there are not eyes boring into the back of us but that does not make them any less there.


	2. Have A Little Class

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

The door to the Biology Lab is unlocked but there's no one inside. In a school where the youth cannot be trusted it's a wonder that this is even possible. The thought doesn't keep Emmett from letting himself in or me from following.

The lab is nearly three times as long as it is wide with black granite topped tables spanning the length. They run perpendicular to the supply shelves and cabinets built into the walls allowing easy access to materials. Emmett immediately tries to open one only to find out what I know all along. Locked.

With twenty tables to choose from I take a seat in one that is three from the back on the left side of the room. Mr. Banner always addressed that side more often and I remembered from our much beloved time together that he believed sitting in the very back made a student guilty just by being harder to see. This way I won't be out of sight but possibly out of mind. I snicker at the thought of being considered out of my mind. Aren't we all?

My brother eyes me like the nutter I am but takes the seat next to me. The chairs are tall even for us giving him the idea that he should just rest his feet on the desk and kick back. "Would you like me to get you something fruity with a little umbrella?" I tease.

He opens on eye to look at me condescendingly, "Is that what you get for all the boys?"

I shove his feet off the desk and go to retrieve last year's notebook hoping I'd be able to recycle the old stuff. That too would probably be considered cheating to Mr. Banner but I figure I'll just wait for him to say so. When it comes to Madame's teachers, its better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

The door behind me opens alerting me to the fact that I'm no longer alone. The foot steps are timid but with three minutes to spare I couldn't imagine anyone would be here other than Mr. Banner and me. I keep my head down and wait for the foot steps to pass me in order to catch site of the culprit but they never pass me. Even Emmett is silent now.

His chair beside me moves and I curse him for abandoning me before I hear her speak. "Thank you," she whispers now occupying my brother's chair. I hold by breath but she doesn't move. Like me she goes about getting her supplies ready though we have no idea what we'll be doing today.

I can see Emmett snooping around the desk at the front of the classroom but coming short. "No wonder he left the door unlocked, everything else is sealed tight," he muses, "And by the way, the response you're looking for is 'you're welcome'. I thought mom would have slapped you with some manners by now, cheese whiz." By now he was muttering but Isabella made now signs to show that she'd heard him at all.

That was when I notice the book open in front of her and remind myself of how she can so easily get lost in the pages. Even if she hadn't been reading I would not have acknowledged her gratitude. I'm not even sure of what she's grateful. I certainly haven't done anything for her benefit.

Just as I am about to inform her that she is in Emmett's seat I realize that she must have been thanking him. It's the only thing that remotely makes sense but I can't see why he would let her. He needs me as much as I need him.

For the next minute he is the only sound in the room as we wait for the rest of the student body to file. They make no effort to acknowledge any of us other than to avoid the tables in front and behind me. Angela is the only one brave enough to get close and ends up at the table in front of me with a brief 'hello' for me and a half hearted introduction for Isabella. Once everyone else has found a desk and a partner Emmett slides in next to her.

He gives me the thumbs up as if to say he's won something big before leaning closer to his new partner. "How you doing, sugar tits?" he whispers though an Emmett whisper is much louder than the word implies. Like a good girl she ignores him and I fight off a snicker at his expense.

He turns to me with a glare. "What?" I whisper trying to sound tough.

He opens his mouth for what I'm sure will be a witty remark but instead a feminine voice answers, "Nothing." A look to my left reveals my partner looking out from behind a curtain of chocolate hair obviously thinking that I was speaking to her. It actually seemed rude on my part to not even notice she was looking at me as well

I want to tell her that I was talking to Emmett but I don't want to make her feel silly. Emmett does that for me. "He was talking to me, doll face. My pick-ups lines seem as out dated as Crowly's but if you give me a minute I might work up some new material just for you."

Still staring at her I watch her cheeks turn to red and hear Emmett give a chuckle before going back to harassing his own partner. It almost seems poetic that the Suicide Girl would be paired with him, so full of life even after…

I mull over last year's syllabus as Mr. Banner slide into with a briefcase in one hand and the attendance list in the other. He calls out names as he goes and I listen well enough to answer when called but not well enough to hear anything else before Isabella is correcting him. This year she goes by Bella. Perhaps she always has but never spoke up before.

Mr. Banner makes a note of it and continues. I look toward _Bella_ only to find her hidden by hair again. It occurs to me that I should offer her the chance to switch seats and partner with Angela but Mr. Banner has just finished.

"Alright class, take a look at the person you are sitting alongside know that they will be your partner for the rest of the year. There are no exceptions. Should you break up with your boyfriend or suddenly find your classmate's aroma less than appealing, you are stuck with them," he turned his eyes in our direction, "My apologies Miss Webber."

With that he went about explaining what was expected of us paying no mind to Emmett's protests as he sniffed his own armpits. It serves him right for thinking that the showers in gym class were just an excuse for the queers of society to get a free peak at the goods. His words, not mine.

Class went by quickly. In a school this size introductions were less than necessary giving us time to delve right into our first assignment. I only finish half of it as my mind wanders idly around why Bella would want Emmett's seat at all. Does she think that because I've taken the class before I'll be an easy A? Does she think I'll be intimidating enough to keep her many admirers at bay? I laugh. If that were the case she would have taken my seat instead. Emmett has no problem playing body guard.

When it's all over Angela is the first out of her seat moving past Emmett and trying her best to ignore the way he calls after her. "Don't be like that, baby," he whines before telling me he'll meet me in the dorm room and chasing her out the door.

"See ya," I say to myself and yet again confuse Bella.

"Umm…bye, Edward," she whispers. After having not said two words throughout the hour it would be odd to suddenly speak now. Still, I don't correct her. I nod and let her believe for a moment that I'm not a complete imbecile while not believing it myself.


	3. Behind Closed Doors

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

AN: I have finished the outline for this. Rather than T it will now be rated M for horror in later chapters. It dos not look like I will be working any smut into here but I will keep you well informed if I do. The first few chapters are slow moving but stick with me while it picks up and i promise it will be worth while. One last thing, I'm sick. Like 102.7 sick so if there are errors I'll fix them later. I apologize.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

It's early evening. I know this despite the lack of a clock on the wall or a window out which I can judge the setting sun. I know this because I have a strict schedule and Carlisle does not allow for excuses.

Biology is the last educational course of the day for me. Most of the student body went on to some other trivial waste of time while I sat quietly in the library. Emmett never comes to me there. No doubt even if he did he wouldn't have today. He's a little distracted by Suicide Girl. I look forward to the day her possessive Hulk of a boyfriend decides to show him who's boss.

Though with Emmett's size and athletic experience I doubt it will be quite as good as I anticipate.

For now I muse idly sitting across the hall from the good doctors closed door. His is one of many lining the south side of the hall while the wall on the left acts as a barrier to the outside. It wouldn't be difficult at all just to hammer out a few holes and let a little light through. I guess they feel that the only people in this hall are the headcases who are better left it the dark.

To the untrained eye the white floors, white walls, and blinding white lights would suggest otherwise but I know what this is. I know how this works.

On each door a silver knob can be found. It is the only contrast to the white. I watch the knob before me intently until it begins to moves. Slowly it turns to the left until it can turn no more and the door becomes ajar. It is only now that I can hear voices from the other side, both of which I recognize.

"I'm afraid we still haven't gotten the dosage right. Just be patient for another few weeks and I'm sure you'll be good as new," the Good Doctor assures his young patient.

She backs out of the room eternally grateful for every pill he has prescribed. Lauren has always preferred a medicated state over reality. It's a pity really. I hear she was a force to be reckoned with when puberty hit and her unstable hormones reeked havoc on unsuspecting classmates. If she wasn't luring them into dark corners to feed her insatiable inner lover then she was clawing their eyes out for all to see.

Carlisle looks past her to me and I see the immediate chafe in her demeanor. She can't stand to not be the center of attention for a second. But as her eyes fall on me as well I see a mischievous smirk grace her plum colored lips.

"Hello, Edward," she greets me suggestively. It doesn't suit her to act the predator to me but she tries.

I pick myself off the floor and close the distant between she and I. "Hello to you, Miss Mallory," I purr, "And might I say you look positively delicious in those designer jeans of yours."

She blushes but I feel her fear rise. This is the reason the other children don't play with me. They are merely disobedient dogs up against a lone wolf.

I lean even closer, putting my lips to her ear while my eyes remain trained on the Good Doctor. He never admits it but I think he enjoys my antics. "Be careful or I may just have to take a bite," I whisper. Her breath catches but she doesn't move.

"Enough," Carlisle orders louder than necessary. I'm a foot from him, "In my office, Mr. Masen. Off to the common room, Miss Mallory."

She still doesn't move until after I've crossed the threshold. Silly girl.

The door clicks closed behind us and the doctor/patient relationship begins. He spends too long wasting my time by asking how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, how my teachers are treating me. It's a good twenty minutes before he gets to what he really wants to know about.

Fine. Fine. Fine. It's a wonder he even speaks with me at all. Everything is always fine because if it's not then it's my fault. According to Carlisle I am the only one in control of how I feel and how others feel about me. I cannot wait for my hearing and my eighteenth birthday to come to pass. Only then will i be free of this hell hole and all the demons who inhabit it.

"I hear you've been fighting with your brother again." For a doctor his tone is extremely judgmental. I might take offense to it if I could give a damn.

He looks down on me, waiting for an answer. I clear my throat. "I haven't the foggiest idea of what you could be speaking of my good man." Of all that could be wrong with me a multiple personality disorder is low on the list. The fact doesn't keep me from enticing him. It's not like he'll ever let me out.

He takes a seat behind his desk and removes his glasses. I bet that single move makes Lauren wet every time. He massages the bridge of his nose and I settle further into my seat. Let the games begin.

"Edward, Edward, Edward." I bet that gets her all hot and bothered too. "How many times are we going to go through this? What is it going to take to get you to accept reality?"

"Carlisle, Carlisle, Carlisle," I tease, "What is it going to take to get you to accept that I am not someone you can poke and prod until you control them? I fight with my brother. It was a small fight and it hasn't happened all summer.

"Why don't you do your job and at least attempt to recognize progress when you see it?" I'm angry but I work hard to ensure my condescending tone matches his.

He shakes his head and for the first time today he begins to write. "You temper is just as unhealthy as ever," he states and I look to the clock on the wall. Our thirty minutes us up. "I'm going to go ahead a prescribe you something a little extra to help you sleep. Will you take it?"

His eyes meet mine. I remain silent but he already knows the answer. He's goes back to scribbling. "I'll be sure to let your caretaker know that she will need to supervise. Perhaps a good nights sleep will be just the thing."

I roll my eyes. My dates with Ms. Platt are never as good as they sound. For a woman who gets her jollies by pining grown men to their beds and shoving things down their throats she could at least me nice enough to throw in a spanking or two. I'm sure Carlisle would translate that into a mommy issue but sometimes a bad boy deserves a good spanking.

I'm not asking for much. "It seems this is all we'll have time for today. Send your classmate in on your way out and I'll see you at the same time next week."

Unlike with Lauren he didn't have the common courtesy to walk me out. I'm sure she was a better patient for him than I. "Lets hope this was just a minor set back and I won't have to worry until then." My nod is not a confirmation that it won't happen again. Just a way to let him know he had at least been heard.

I rise from my seat and let in the next person on my way out surprised about who I find. Bella stands there idly chewing her lip while Emmett tasks her ear off. In her hands clutched to her chest is a solitary notebook, a sketch pad if you will. On the back I see part of a moon. I'm sure the rest of it is there as well but her forearm is laid across it. She's not trying to hide it, this just happens to be the way it is held.

I find myself overly intrigued about it's contents. Does she have a fascination with the solar system? Will I find tucked away outlines of far off galaxies? Could it be that the inner pages contain detail sketches of a moon goddess? Could see be more deep than that? Is the omnipresent moon on the outside a sign of an over seer where inside there will be portraits of life the way it is lived when no one is watching?

Emmett is still chatting away not realizing neither of us can hear him. She does not bid him farewell, merely says hello to me and moves past in my silence. The door closes behind us leaving just my brother and I to stare at one another. A childish grin adorns his face while mine is one of shock and awe.

"She totally wants me, bro."


	4. Conversations

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

It's Thursday, a little more than a week since school started; a little less than a week since Bella began taking up space in other places belonging to Emmett. He doesn't mind of course, just teases her about replacing him. Like everything else that spews from his mouth she ignores this.

Tomorrow will be the dance every girl is giggling about, save for Bella. It isn't the first and I'm sure it will not be the last but with the ways the _ladies _are carrying on one would think it were Prince Charming's Ball. I must have missed the part in the fairy tale when they explained that Cinderella was locked away for trying to cut her stepmothers throat and that Prince Charming had a nine o' clock curfew before he turned back into a drooling buffoon. Had Disney drawn that version I'm sure I would have paid better attention.

Emmett is a little upset that he has not yet been asked by a single girl despite the looks and whispers that are constantly befalling our table come lunch time. Even now Lauren is watching us closely and Jessica is conspiring behind her hand, this was their idea from the start. The least they can do is be bold no and just ask him before they find out to late that no one else bothered.

He puffs his chest out like the alpha ape he believes himself to be and I'm only mildly surprised that he forgoes the idea of grunting. It would suit him well from this angle. I don't have to look at the girls to know that they're impressed. Hell, I'm impressed. My brother happens to be then best looking thing in these halls if you don't count the Good Doctor and unfortunately most of these girls do. I wonder for a second or two if Bella is in for Daddy issues but choose not to ask or dwell on the thought. Among other unsavory things I do not need thoughts of Bella calling out 'Daddy' in a lovers moan.

I haven't been asked to the dance either though the female to male ratio at Madame's is roughly 3 to 1. It just goes to show that the female sex is three times more likely to go insane as their male counterparts. I snicker out loud though the thought is only spoken in my head.

Slumping over today's gruel Bella peeks up at me through dark eyelashes. She looks confused, maybe even a little surprised but in a place like this I hardly think a person laughing at the voices in their head is all that unexpected. Regardless, the look she gives me is sobering and the humorous tone is all but lost.

She looks back to her bowl as it seems that she has won. Had I known this was a battle of wills I would have fought harder. Now I look line a spineless jellyfish she can just force into submission whenever she pleases. Round One may go to Miss swan but I will be better prepared next time.

Emmett is whining over Angela again. It seems Ben has her more under control than he realized and while he is an avid lover of anything challenging he has a hard time going after something he doesn't really want. He had it all with his last girlfriend but I ruined that. Every look he gives me is a reminder of that even when he refuses to say it aloud, even when he swears it wasn't me fault I know he's only saying so to make me feel better. It was my fault. It always is.

Eventually he shuts up about himself long enough to engage Bella in conversation. "What about you Bella-Boo, have you asked anybody yet?" He leaves out the implied 'hint, hint' but scoots closer to her suggestively. She gives me a look but says nothing. I cant' tell if she does want me to know something or if she doesn't want him to know something.

Rather than just stare I try to participate. "Have you?" I ask but she looks at me like she doesn't get it. "Have you asked anybody…to the dance...tomorrow?" I'm not sure how much more specific I need to be.

She's cross. "I'm not stupid, Edward. I know what you're talking about and I haven't asked anyone because I'm not going. It's a sad excuse for insecure girls to force insecure boys into walking in boring circles while listening to trashy music and drinking warm punch to wash down the cold food." She stabs at the oatmeal looking blob on her plate and Emmett and I exchange a look. She must not be that good of a dancer.

My eyes scan the room to access the other girls. They aren't much different than she though they've probably been asked to a few more dances than she. With the exception of a few I'm sure most of them would be right at home in some small tome public school with a make-up bag in one hand and daddy's hush money in the other. Bella was at least deeper than that.

"Okay, while you finish up with this little ray of sunshine I'm going to wiggle my ass shamelessly in front of possible admirers on my way to sneaking an extra pudding cup from the cougar behind the counter. You two play nice," he advises before leaving us to our own devises. Things are easier for me the few times a day when he actually lets me out of his sight. A part of me hopes that he is asked and I am not so that I can spend that time in the room by myself, not that I plan to do anything I can't do in front of him but at least the option is there.

Again I snicker at a joke I did not voice. Apparently I now think that I am a comedian with my own stand-up skit ready for Saturday Night Live. Bella glares this time. I smirk because she looks like a ferocious kitten that just needs a little pop on the nose to calm her. I wouldn't dare pop her for fear of being bitten; one never knows what issues they might come in contact with at Madame's and rabies is not on my list of things I must acquire before I die. She returns my smirk and I feel the warmth in my lower abdomen that is somewhat nice but mostly like the feeling I get when I try to hold in a full bladder. I'd rather not chance it so I leave her to seek out the boys' room and unload whatever warmth has filled me.

It takes a few minutes to will myself into letting go which ultimately makes me late for class. Mr. Banner is upset as always only leaving me to wonder what the teachers think that we're actually up to when not in class. They don't exactly leave us with many options but I suppose they could always walk us to and from each class like kindergarteners.

Bella's already seated and doesn't bother to scoot in at all when I try to sneak behind her. It takes a lot out of me not to grab her chair and shove her the way I want to but somehow I refrain. All I need is for Carlisle to catch wind of that and I'm back on the heavy meds with lots of bed rest. No one really wants to be strapped to a table drooling and pissing in a bag for a week just because some infuriating girl decided she needed more room than what was necessarily required. I manage to get past her and stay level headed as well. There just might be hope for me after all.

"Now that we're all here," Mr. Banner begins with a pointed look in my direction, "I'd like to discuss the lab we'll be starting next Monday. If you read and understood the syllabus then you know we will be doing a series of dissections leading up to fetal pig dissection at the end of the year. Monday will be the goat's eye." Nearly the entire class begins to look squeamish. Angela, Emmett, Bella, and I are excluded though only Emmett looks excited. I mentally run down the list of everything else. There are rabbit lungs, rat stomachs…or maybe it was bird stomach. Then there are intestines of some sort. It's fairly advanced stuff for this lot but I'm sure our parents pay well to keep us here year round.

Mr. Banner drones on fro a little while longer before releasing us to write our labs, a sort of idea of what we will do and how we will do it before we've even seen what we're working with. I improvise mostly nonsense. Last year was less than impressive and I plan to do mostly the same this year. After all, I didn't fail because I was wrong. I failed because Emmett doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut during crunch time.

As most of the class finishes a quiet murmur fills the room which Mr. Banner does nothing to stomp out. He can tell they're all excited and rather than rain on the parade he has chosen to place nice. It will probably be the same tomorrow. I have a feeling the student body will be so incapable of paying attention that movies will be playing in every class as an excuse for nothing being taught. I don't blame them. If I were teaching a bunch of delinquents that's how I would likely end every week.

Finished with my own excuse for wasting time I look over a Bella's paper to see what she has come up with as a game plan. The words were never said but I wonder if we were meant to do this together. One look at her paper has me satisfied I did it myself. She's doodling again, just a mess of lines. I feel the need to kick myself for having such faith in her as an artist based on one meeting. I was so sure that behind those brown eyes was a hidden talent that flew from her fingertips and captured her subject the way no one else would see them.

Sadly, she cannot even draw what they others girls do, hearts and kittens and other nonsense. She scribbles, nothing more. And with her left hand. She writes with her right and scribbles with her left. Sometimes I think she does it just to annoy me.

"What?" Her abruptness brings me out of my head and back into the classroom. She stopped scribbling and is now staring at me.

"Nothing," I answer. I'm starting to notice a pattern to out conversations.

Class is nearly over and she's beginning to park up her things when I notice a would-be stalker stepping into our midst. I want to warn her but the word stick in my throat. His do not fail him as easily. "Well hello beautiful. A little birdie has just informed me that you still don't have a date to the dance and I thought I'd go ahead and remind you that all you have to do is ask," he wiggles his eyebrows the way Emmett does, "I know you want to." I have the urge to protect her but not the right.

From the back of her head I cannot tell what her facial expression is like but I hope it is one of distaste. "Listen…Tyler, is it?" She meaning to be off putting but he nods encouragingly. "That's nice. I don't like you. I don't want to go with you. You're breath smells funny and you're too skinny. If I need more of a reason than just know that Edward and I are going together and that there are plenty of other girls out there you can force yourself on to."

The scene would have been complete if she would have patted him on the head and said 'good dog' before sending him on his way. Still, he left us just as speechless as I was.

She rounded on me. "What do you say?" It was her way of asking though her tone gave no room for denial. I nodded like a good dog and watched her as she gathered her things and walked out like everything was settled.

My brothers booming laugh eventually broke through my shock. "Dude, what are you going to wear?"

AN: Sorry for the delay, couldn't function yesterday and barely managed to get to it today. Tomorrow shouldn't be a problem though. See you then!


	5. She Was Beautiful

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

"I don't know. I think I like the red one better. It brings out your eyes like Christmas time." Emmett's joking with me doesn't make the fact any less true. The red shirt makes me look like I should be shrunk to ornament size and placed in a box until the time is right for jolly celebration. This would be much easier if Bella had had the foresight to ask me more in advanced and possible to have also clued me in to what color she might choose. As usual this is too much to ask.

I sigh, "What are my other options?" There has to be more than the red or the green. I have the largest room in the school with the most clothes still tagged with the most expensive prices. Surely there has to be something I can wear that will make me attractive and compliment her no matter what color she chooses. I still haven't figured out why I care. She's just a girl like many before her and a few who are sure to come along after she is gone. Hopefully, by then, we will all be far from this place.

Emmett throws out a few more ideas that look mostly the same, varying hues of shirts mixed with shades of khaki. How will she ever be able to resist me?

I take a seat on the newly carpeted floor. It's comfortable and still smells like the air freshener mother uses when she vacuums. I'm sure it comes in the care package she sends every month but when my brother isn't looking I like to pretend that she was here and that we just missed her. After a few moments inside my pretend world I feel she cares a lot more than the past year I've spent in reality and while I don't entirely blame her I don't understand much either.

Carlisle agrees that it is not fair to me that she does not write or visit but tells me that I have to understand that she isn't well either. She has lost someone very dear to her as well and I helped to make that happen. I ask him if she'll get better; I ask if I start behaving and I become a good son again if she'll get better and love me. He says that he doesn't have the answers to those questions but that he believes she still loves me and that is why I am here. I believe it's his job to tell me whatever makes me feel better until I'm out of his hair and off causing problems in someone else's office.

The thud of a tennis ball against wood ticks the seconds away in this quiet sanctuary of mine. It is a reminder that I am not alone when I so often feel I am. I turn my head toward the bunk beds to see Emmett lying on the bottom bunk bouncing the green ball off the top and catching it only to repeat. Madame's does not have much to offer the truly athletic youth causing his many talents to go wasted. Summer before last there were rumors of scouts looking at him for college football. No he sits with me and swears he doesn't regret a second of it. I wish just one person would be honest with me about…anything.

"So," he starts, seeing as how I'm not one as able to freely converse as he, "Why this one? Why Bella?" I have been asking myself the same question.

"She's pretty," I admit, and she is in her own way. She's awkward. It's like she doesn't know what kind of girl she is - if she's strong, or smart, or funny. Mostly she's just sad and though no one else would I find her sadness attractive.

"Rosalie was beautiful," he counters. She was too. She was tall with long blond hair and full red lips. Her laugh was infectious and when she spoke to someone she had to be touching them whether it was a hand on the shoulder or a pinch on the cheek. It was her way of showing the world she was there and she was real. Hers was a command performance.

I try to think back to where it all began but my memory has not been the best since agreeing to medication. "She was something else. Where'd you find her anyway?" I asked hoping he'd tell the whole story. He always did love talking about her.

A smile spreads across his face before he begins, "It's was the end of my junior year, remember? You were a sophomore, almost sixteen. Dad swore he'd take my car away if I let you practice driving in it but what kind of brother would I have been if I didn't?" He laughed and it lightened the intensity that always filled the room.

"Right, I remember. I wanted to check out that college with the internship at Virginia Mason Medical Center in Seattle and you decided that the only time we could go and have it not interfere with practice was during school hours. Dad was pissed when he got the call." It was like old times again. Trading off telling the stories we both knew too well.

Emmett throws the ball at me but misses. "You caved like a girl," he teases only in part, "I was grounded for two weeks but it didn't even matter. By the time summer came around I had full filled my sentence and Rosalie was moving into her dorm as a freshman. Man, she got so pissed when she found out I was still in high school."

"You could have fooled me. You two were constantly lip locking and groping and other stuff I should not have had to witness with my virgin eyes." I throw the ball back and shudder at the memory of the two of them christening mothers beige love seat. Emmett spent weeks telling me that that was what love seats were made for, love.

He tosses the ball back and I realize we just might be playing catch. "It wasn't even what you thought it was. Sometimes as hormonal teenagers begin to feel an attraction to the opposite sex certain urges arise…"

Quick as a flash I cover my ears. "Dude, no! I know how sex works."

"First of all, you do not so don't lie. Secondly, Rosie and I were merely engaging in some heavy petting. I no more got a piece of that than you did." It's nice to hear but surprisingly still and over share. I'm not comfortable with this.

It's my turn to toss the ball and with it I try to change the subject. "How'd you know that she was it for you? And don't say that you didn't because I heard you telling mom that she was."

"You heard that?" he rolled the ball around in his hand but didn't look at me.

"When I was in the hospital," I whispered.

"Right," he says before getting up and starting to pace, "After the accident. That was actually part of it. Sure, Rosie and I were hot a heavy before that but when you were in that car accident she really came through for me. She helped mom around the house when things got tough and she visited you just as often as any of the rest of us did. It was like we were her family to and she was there to take care of us. I needed that."

For a long time I speculated that my accident had had some part in Rosalie and Emmett's relationship but I never asked. I just enjoyed life for a bit while it was all about me. For once I wasn't Emmett's kid brother or my parents' youngest son. I had my own name and people wanted to know it. I survived an accident that we found out far too late I should have never walk away from.

Emmett lies back on the bed again and begins to toss the tennis ball at the top bunk as he did before I disturbed him. "I really thought I was going to marry her."

We all did.

Carefully I pick myself up off the floor and look around the room at all the clothes I've strewn about. Emmett's right, I really can be such a girl sometimes. I started to put them all away leaving out a pair of black slacks and a black dress shirt, this way I'll match her no matter what she wears. It looks a little like funeral attire and it might as well be. It isn't as though she actually wanted to go with me; she just didn't want to go with Tyler.

Once everything is put away I dress for bed and secure my place on the top bunk. As silly as it sounds I know that Emmett is scared to sleep on top because he thinks his weight might cause it to cave and squish me. Sometimes I wish he would.

When I am settled the solo game of catch stops a silence spreads around us. "In need of a bedtime story, little bro?" Emmett offers. I'd reach down to punch him but even if I hit him it will do me no good. Instead I lie awake staring at the ceiling and hoping I don't dream of her.

- A little insight into Edward's past...tell me what you think.


	6. A Friendly Game

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

The day of the dance has finally arrived causing every adolescent body in this place to suddenly lose what few marble they had left. I feel for them, a little. All they want is a piece of normalcy from their lives before the were sentenced, one small reminder of what it was like to be the object of anothers affection based on instant attraction rather than trying to form meaningless relationships with peers who are just as judgmental as they can be. Madame's is only different really in that public school is a place where everyone thinks they know everyone else's dirty secret and here everyone really does. And it's dirtier than the outside world ever imagined.

Class have been canceled to afford my fellow classmates more time to prepare the dining hall for the festivities. Why it would take anyone all day to decorate for a two hour event is beyond me but I choose not to help and it keeps me sane. Well, it keeps me as sane as can be expected.

I stand off to the left side of the hallway leading to the dining area watching the hustle and bustle to read the room though I don't see much. My mind is mentally calculating all the places Bella could be other than the female dorms. I've recently been informed that I'm not allowed there. It was Emmett's fault.

He's somewhere around here too, more bummed than he lets on about not being asked but I'm sure he'll be more than satisfied when it comes time for the festivities and he is one of the few single men amidst the many single women. Perhaps tonight will be the night when the staff finally catches him in some random closet trying to recreate what he's only seen on outdated video tapes dad keep with his hunting supplies.

It seems strange to me that those kinds of things would be lumped in with the equipment that was meant for ending lives rather than creating but Emmett says that if a man wants to hide something from a woman he has to do it both in plain sight and where she would never look. On the off chance that she does come across it for one reason of another he can always say he wasn't hiding it, that's just where he's always kept it. I guess Emmett always understood our father better than I.

Speak of the devil and he shal rise. Just as I'm hearing his voice in my head I hear it bouncing off the walls around us. "Hello Janie," he calls to the adorable young blond trying to get the tape out of her hair. If I had to wager a gues I would say she was trying to hang up cray paper while simultaneously fixing her hair. I like girls who try to be efficient. Emmett gestures to her handy work. "I'm always getting my hands stuck my hair too." He starts running his fingers through inch long dark curls and tossing his head about like some Herbal Essence model.

I'm starting to think I'm the only one who finds him funny because every time I laugh at one of his jokes or some stunt he pulls I find myself met with glares as if to say I shouldn't be encouraging him. This school could use a few more smiling faces like Emmett's, with a few less libidos like Emmett. I swear he'll burst soon if he doesn't get some release and I for one am not going to be cleaning it off the bedroom walls. Lord knows Emmett can't clean up after himself.

He winks at me trying to communicate that it's not my fault Jane's a cow but I just shrug it off. I don't need the reassurance of a man who in less than ten seconds will be forgetting all about me and Jane to follow some other little tart into the dining room, now party room.

Sure enough he has forgotten me as soon as his back is turned and he is face to face with Suicide Girl. She'll be the death of us all if she ever tells Ben that Emmett has been up to no good.

"Whatcha doin?" questions a gay little voice next to me. I smirk a little as I recognize the sound.

"Watchin'," I reply trying to sound as energetic and failing miserably.

She tugs my arm and we sit on the cold floor. Surprisingly, once seated she still clings to the arm. I'm comfortable in the warmth. "Whatcha watchin'?" she wonders. I shrug because I haven't really been watching anything. It feels like I was only there to wait for her. "Hmm, do you want to play a game with me?"

It sounds enticing the way she asks. I turn to look her in the eye. "And what game might you have in mind?" I'm hoping for anything that will liven things up for me but not putting too much faith in her. Her eyes dart to my lips as she licks her own. I'm only barely involved in the action when her lips are quickly thrust upon mine and pulled away to soon.

Her eyes are wide but smiling though she pulled away from me entirely and is getting to her feet, "Tag, your it," she calls before running back to where ever she came from. I press my fingers to my lips unable to tell which of the two is shaking. She's gone now but I know I'll love this game already, it's my turn.

I don't see her again until the dance is in full swing. There is pink as far as the eye can see and I fear I've had too much punch. Emmett hasn't been much help as he's too busy sneaking up on girls who dates have left them unattended. It would be to easy for him to just find a nice one without a date.

It doesn't matter anymore though. I see now as she stands in the doorway with the halls bright light surrounding her that I have been chosen by the most beautiful girl here tonight. She walks slowly, unsure as many stop to appraise her but when her eyes meet mine she is certain. I meet her halfway as I've seen in too many movies . I just can't help wanting to close the distance between us that much more quickly.

My words are lost when we meet. I want to tell her she's beautiful, that I appreciate the time and effort that went into putting her hair into a french twist. Her dress is lovely too. It is a midnight blue that mixes well with her stunning brown eyes. Her whole body looks frozen in glass and I am a foll rendered speechless at the sight.

"Do I look okay?" she whispers timidly mistaking my silence for indifference.

I hold her face in my hand as I saw Emmett do with Rosalie and I'm happy to feel her quiver in my touch. Whether it is delight or fear I love the effect I have on this body on this night. "You look divine, my dear Isabella," I answer before taking her to the center of the room where the only thing left to do is to dance. Her left hand comes to rest in my right. My left hand comes to rest on her lower back and with her right resting on my shoulder we begin to spin.

The music is soft even though the tempo is a little fast. Looking in her eyes I am surprised by how dizzy I become. The room is a blur of various dark shapes with Bella as the only focal point. She is as high on the atmosphere as I and it shows in her cheek which have no been rosie or full since I first laid eyes on her.

_Rosie._

When we stop I bring my mouth to hers the way she did for me only forcing her kiss to mine longer, harder. Mine is not meant to be a game. We break so that we may breath and place our foreheads against one another before we start to sway to the music as the new set starts. "You're it," I whisper and feel her smile even with my own eyes now closed.

It is fast for two normal people I suspect but Bella and I live outside of normalcy. A date, a kiss, and the beginning of a life together could easily start all in one night.

AN: It's my first day back at my real job since I got sick so I didn't get to spend to much time on this but I do like the way it reads. See you tomorrow with the aftermath.


	7. Brotherly Aftermath

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

It would seem the the faculty is not a fan of blatant act of publicly displayed affection. There are now seventeen students who can argue the case after having given _the talk _ at the end of the evenings last night. The fact that it is a odd number has me grinning like a Cheshire cat as it implies that there was someone acting inappropriately affectionate with themselves though that was not the case. It seems that someone at the dance was caught with two members of the opposite sex in a somewhat compromising position. He was instigated a girl to girl lip locking session.

"Even I can't believe that it wasn't me," Emmett says from the bottom bunk. Unlike the other seventeen of us he has not been grounded to his room for the weekend but rather has decided to stand the incarceration alongside me so that I may know of his approval. It makes me happier to know that said approval is also tainted by jealousy. He wishes he were among those who took advantage of what small amount of freedom we had been awarded.

My lips are still warm from Bella. It's been hours so I know that it isn't really possible but it doesn't keep them from feeling warm any more that knowing I cannot have her keeps me from imagining being inside of her. I want to feel her warmth in various other places with a few of them not even being sexual. Just because I imagine her tender fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of my neck does not mean we may only accomplish this in the throes of passions. I imagine if she were to be discreet we could get away with doing this in Biology in front of all. Again, she must be discreet and so must Emmett – a feat not easily accomplished.

Seventeen, of roughly under a hundred patients there were seventeen of us willing to risk any future freedoms all for the sake of one night. It was a night that we spent in the passionate embrace of another felling their touch and their desire as they felt ours. Some were bolder than I, caught with lipstick smeared across their face and neck or, in the case of Irena Taylor's date, claw marks from their collarbone to…other bones.

For the first time since I came to this place I am proud of our actions. For once in this miserable existence my peers and I are acting like teenagers. "It was great," I comment back remembering the way hormones had run wild with mine and Bella's being the tamer of them though the impression of my teeth in her shoulder tells a different story. "I bit her," I gush to Emmett like the fourteen year old girl I've become.

I hear him choking on a laugh. "No shit?" he chuckles, "What brought out the mountain lion in you, little bro?" I've missed this. The late night talks and all the brotherly banter disappeared so long ago that I've forgotten it was even missing. I hope it doesn't leave again anytime soon.

With a mischievous grin in my voice I begin to explain. "It wasn't like that. You were a little preoccupied yourself last night so I don't know how much you saw but Bella and I danced for the longest time. I've never been one to really take the lead but with her it was effortless. She was so light and angelic, like mom looked when she and dad used to dance in the kitchen."

"I used to love those days. You knew as soon as that '50s music started playing on the radio that dad was on the prowl. Man, we'd take of running to beat him there and then peek around the door frame watching her wash the dishes like she didn't know he was about to sweep her off her feet. She'd pretend to me surprise and dad would sing all the words to whatever song it was purposely knocking bubbles all over the place." I sighed heavily. "Sometimes I thought they put the show on just for us."

The memory makes me smile as well. As I recall there were numerous occasion where moms head was thrown back in blissful happiness while dad spun her faster and faster until she took her feet off the ground. He hold her and kiss her while Emmett and I clapped. They were in love back then.

"It was like that," I confirm, "When we got tired she drank some punch and we found a table away from everyone else before the theatrics started. I was a complete gentleman too, mom would have be proud. I pulled out her chair and everything but she told me no. She made me sit first and then sat on my lap to lean back against me. She just wanted me to hold her." I remember to well the amazing way she smelled and the shiver that went through us both when I ran my nose across her bare shoulder unable to control my desire for her. I'm sure that if I had known what to do to please a woman I would have not hesitated with all who were there to witness.

"When she turned back to face me…" I don't know how to finish my sentence.

"You fell for her," Emmett offers.

I nod. "My lips fell to hers like they belonged there and I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to. But then she couldn't breath and she pulled away leaving her neck exposed. I kissed and I licked and I sucked while bit her lips and made all the greatest noises. I couldn't resisted biting her too." My teeth had sank into her skin with little resistance and those sweet noises only became louder until I let go. Then her mouth was digging into my own again and our hands were wandering one another's wardrobe.

I heard Emmett's pants unzip. "Dude, seriously?" I was shocked and looked down to his bunk only to see him standing half dressed on the other side.

"What? Light out is at nine and were getting dangerously close," he explained while putting his pajama pants on. I don't even want to admit to myself what I had been thinking let alone my older brother. I shyly resorted back to my position on my back staring at the ceiling. "So, how'd she take it?"

I laugh, "She practically ate my face."

"Good for you, little bro." His congratulations bring about a short silence where we both think about where this will be leading. "Do you plan on telling her?" I hear the springs in the matress give way as he returns to it.

Sooner or later I was going to have to deal this this, I just wish I didn't have to now. Bella could never know who I am, what I'm capable of committing. She's better than that.

The heaviness weighs in the air and I only wish I had not fallen for her. That would make things so much easier on all involved. If I had never fallen, if I hadn't been so stupid, things would have been better for everyone – Mom, Dad, Emmett…

Rosalie.

The lights go out automatically and the darkness fills our Saturday night. "You know she's falling for you, little bro," Emmett comments as if I need the reminder.

"Yeah, I know."

"Doesn't change anything, does it?" He knows the answer to that as well.

"Doesn't change anything."

"I miss you," he says. I pretend to be asleep.

AN: I love the brotherly back and forth conversations they have periodically. And I'd like to give a shoot out to Ali Shaw who did some rereading and found out one of the big secrets. I can't wait to see who figures out the next. Don't forget to review, it makes me weak in the knees.


	8. Lines on Paper

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

A few days pass. It's now Tuesday in the Biology Lab. It still smells like the goats eye from yesterday only slightly masked by the subtle scent of an aerosol air freshener. It seems Mr. Banner is a fan of the fresh linen scent. I would have preferred he went with something edible like a pumpkin pie or apple cider odor. Even hazelnut would have sufficed though then I'm sure I would be complaining about how badly it makes me want coffee. The connection between the two evades me.

We're meant to be writing out a detailed description of everything we saw during the dissection. We weren't allowed to do it at the time as Mr Banner is currently doing his own experiment based on memory stimulation. I hate being a lab rat but I'm not bold enough to refuse.

Bella draws beside me. Her left hand holds her sketch book steady while her right clings tightly to a pencil she is using to make swift lines followed by rushed shading. Her posture is suffering with her shoulders hunched over the paper. I can't tell if she is just this intense when she works or if it's an attempt to keep me from seeing. I want to see badly.

Instead I give her the space she requires and busy my mind by trying to recall the colors that gushed freely when I sliced into the eye. Of the things most likely to trigger a good memory sight was the safest though I know most of my classmate will start with smell. The way it lingers is atrocious.

I remember a violet hue to the seepage after the first laceration. It had spilled out onto the tray flowing outward in a puddle roughly three times the space the eye occupied. Bella had asked if it was blood but I didn't have the answer. It didn't look or smell like blood. My first guess would be that it was part of the liquid in which it was stored to keep it semi fresh for the students but without knowing how long it was dead it's safe to say the liquid could have been just what she thought. It made her squeamish.

In my report I add a note that in the future he may think twice before having a class dissect so quickly after lunch. My warning will go unheeded but at least I'll have the ability to say 'I told you so' when one of the weaker stomachs in class tosses their cookies.

My concentration is compromised. Emmett is snoring so loudly that I feel he'll be impossible to wake while, oddly enough, the sound of lead scratching against paper seems to be the loudest thing to my ears. I'm too in tuned to Bella's movements for either of our good yet I can no longer help that fact. I don't want to know her, to be her friend or anything more, but as any parent of a teenager would know when something is forbidden it is a given that the rebellious child must have it. Carlisle sealed her fate when he forbid me from her.

Monday's are when I see the Good Doctor. I was surprised he didn't request me sooner after the incident with the dance but surprised or not I enjoyed the few days of not being scolded for my actions. At the usual time I ventured into his office under the pretense that all was well. Emmett and I had not had a single fight. My temper had remained in check. All things considered the monster inside me was relatively sated especially considering Bella and I had not exchanged a word with one another at lunch or in class, an unspoken truce I suppose.

Carlisle's thoughts on the matter were something quite different however. After he was finished explaining to me the severity of my actions he went on to inform me of how disappointed her was in me. "You can't do this, Edward. You aren't like the other boys." I want to be like the other boys. I want to be able to look at a beautiful woman and have no fear of the hurt I could inflict just by knowing her, even worse by letting her know me. I want to believe that I am capable of getting better and leading a normal life one day like all of the other boys will, a life with a family and a dog and barbecues with the Smiths on Sunday. Why can't I be like the other boys?

My silence was misconstrued as defiance when I merely had nothing to contradict his statement. His face became reddened as he tried to remain indifferent. I've always know he didn't want me here, he doesn't think the school is equipped for my needs. "You must keep your distance from Miss Swan. You may have the courts fooled but you and I both know that you are not in control of this and I refuse to sit by idly and watch your history repeat itself," he warned, "She and Bella are not the same."

Words meant to warn only relieved me of my previous hindrance toward the girl. I stare at her now as her concentration lightens and watch a smile cut across her lips when she catches me staring. They aren't the same. Bella cares for _me_, belongs to _me_, whispers _my _name in the early hours of the morning. I smile a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin or any other variation that gets me by in this world. She makes me smile.

Before I get a chance to allow my eyes to wander to her work she already has it closed and is putting it away. Perhaps she'll show me tomorrow. I gather my things as well and we file out into the hall along with the class. A chaste kiss on the mouth is our only exchange before she is on her way to her physical fitness class and I am on my way to my room with Emmett somewhere close behind.

Since the night of the dance I feel him drifting farther from me. He becomes more lethargic with every passing minute trading his usual playful attitude with one more commonly found in an over weight feline by the name of 'Fat Louis'. I would tell him that I miss the brother I had only days ago but I feel it would not lighten his mood in the least. He needs to find a new hobby and get past the rejection Suicide Girl has undoubtedly served him. I have no other explanation.

A few hours pass and we are silent in the room. I am cleaning up a bit though finding very little that is not already in it's place while Emmett sleeps some more. I'm not sure if it's cause for worry but I worry nonetheless.

A knock at my door sets off alarms in my head. Ms. Platt is the only one who ever comes to my room and she's above knocking. I check on Emmett to find him still snoring like there isn't a sound in the world that will wake him. The peaceful look grants me pause to stew over whether or not I truly heard a knock. But then it raps again sounded oddly like a tune.

Guarded I sneak up on the door as if it could swing open any second before I carefully crack it an inch to take in the sight of a sweaty, messy haired Bella and her infuriating notebook. A minute goes by with me just looking at her until she pushes against the door I'm holding and lets herself into my sanctuary.

"Nice place you've got here," she comments handing her sketches to me and toying with random trinkets as she surveys my room, "I knew you wanted to see them." She gestures to what I now hold in my hand and I quickly regain my composure to have a look.

The first few are the scribbles I've been watching her waste time with since school started though seeing them up close gives them and abstract look as though if I find a way to turn the page just right I'll see a masterpiece burst from the madness. But it's just scribbles.

Then I see hands. They've been drawn to look like they're bursting from the other side of page reaching through for something. Nothing is within their grasp. On the left hand there is a crescent moon scar in the webbed skin between the thumb and the index finger. I run a finger along the scar trying to feel in when I know it's not really there.

After the hands I find eyes, hollow eyes that stare back at me with no secrets and no regrets. There are only years upon years of nothing in their depths. I flip more quickly now only to stop when I come across a portrait of myself. From the looks of it she sat across from me at lunch and used me as a model. I'm close but I can see that there is no one around me other than the abstract blurs of life in the background. I look like I'd be right at home with a cigarette in my mouth while I flip off someone's grandmother.

I turn the page and find another view of myself. I am at the dance standing next to the drink table with a glass in hand. Again everyone else is a shaded blur. My hair is particularly unruly and I find myself now trying to tame it as I wonder if that is really how she sees me.

"I like that you've quit the scribbling and actually started to draw," I remark to fill the dead air between us.

"It's all just lines on paper," she shrugs having made her way to my book case. Behind a few pictures there are numerous classic titles I have a feeling she will love,

Another turn of the page brings me to another view of myself though not all the people surrounding me are blurred like before. It's done from behind in the Biology Lab where I'm bent over something on the table. Bella is next to me leaning over to have a look and leaving her sketchpad unguarded on the corner of the table. I smile at the little detail and close the book giving her a smile as well.

She returns it before grabbing a picture frame of the shelf and holding it toward me. "Who's this with you?" she asks. I'm confused at first because with the picture only being over a year old she should be able to tell but when I start to point at Emmett on the bottom bunk I suddenly see he is no longer there.

AN: So, there's chapter 8. Things are going to get quicker and possibly more confusing from here on out but we're halfway through. Pay close attention and ask about anything you don't understand because if you get lost and just start assuming stuff you'll end up rereading the whole thing. It's just made that way. Don't forget to review and I'll see you guys tomorrow.


	9. At Arms Length

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

AN: Sorry it's been a few days but I'm caught up and should have no further delays between now and the end of Lines on Paper. I'm also offering previews of "A Kind of Wild Justice" for reviewers soon. Maybe for this chapter, probably for next. I'll figure that out later.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

"I've got some new stuff for you," Bella informs me cheerfully as she bounds into my lap like a large dog that thinks it's a bunny. She's light as a feather but still inflicts pain as she plops down heavily then wiggles her bottom to get a little further between my legs. In an effort to comply I spread my legs and let her fall to the rug beneath us. She 'umphs' hitting the ground. "Close you legs, Edward. I wasn't talking about that kind of new stuff."

I smirk and nuzzle into her neck looking for a good place to bite. "Mmm, what if I want it to be that kind of new stuff," I tease. Goosebumps rise beneath my fingertips along the bare arms I hold in place. They are a clear sign that the work I do is good even when she tries to pretend I have no effect. Today is not a day for coy games however. She wants me.

Her body turns in me arms and her knees now fall between my legs making her a head taller than mine and able to look down with desire. "Just say the word," she whispers before placing her lips over mine. We move together comfortable. Her lips are as soft as the rest of her body though she tries to make them firm against my own. I can tell she wants to show me how much she desires me but I am in control. This is a battle in which I cannot afford to allow her to have the upper hand.

After humoring her for a good few minutes I grip her upper arms firmly and pull her away from me. It's not an easy task as she is swiftly becoming more resistant to my attempts to placate her but I manage. She's a long way from over powering me.

"Edward," she whines. I'll never understand why women think that resorting to childish tactics such as whining or throwing a fit or ever the silent treatment will get them what they want. It only serves to remind me of how young she is and how not ready for this relationship she can be. Furthermore, it leaves me feeling as though I'm taking advantage of her. This young innocent child should not be allowed anywhere near my corrupt mind.

Something in my face tips her off to the fact that she will not be getting her way any time soon and she resigns to turning around again to rest her back against my chest as she pulls open her sketch book. As she flips through the pages she spares a few lingering glances at her perspective on the Harley Quinn's she became enamored with recently. It seems that at first the other girls bothered her and she couldn't understand why. They are all just girls like you would find anywhere else save for them being slightly more damaged.

Looking at the drawings now I can see why they repulsed her so much and also how the Harley Quinn name was so fitting though it took me the entire weekend to get past the fact that she was beginning to name those surrounding us just as I did. In her definition Harley Quinn girls are the slightly off key lovers of the theatrics who fall madly in love with boys who do not possess the ability to return their affection, much like Harley Quinn and the Joker. They're not all the same though. Lauren, Jessica, and Tanya fall into the more lovesick Joker fans group leaving Kate, Carmen, and Irena as slightly more insane and off key females. While the lovers were depicted with whore-ish porcelain doll features the insane were shown with half normal faces and half wide eyed devilish grins.

The way she captures things I would never see leaves me breathless. It is my kryptonite though she can never know. I can't afford to have her being privy to my weaknesses as I know she will no doubt use them against me in the worst possible way. I also don't want to sit her down and have the conversation in which I explain to her that while attractive I am not attracted to her body but rather to her mind. Women her age prefer that they are physically stimulating above all else.

Eventually she gets to the newer works and I find my eyes registering that the first is of Emmett and I alone here in the common room sitting on the couch that I am now leaning my back against. Like the female that he is he has avoided Bella ever sense that day in the room though I'm not sure what it is that offended him. He had already deserted us by the time she came across the picture from our old high school so I'm fairly certain she could not have wounded his vanity by not recognizing him. The entire fiasco is ridiculous though Bella seems in no hurry to mend bridges either. In her defense he refuses to be in the same room as she and I but I do feel things would be different if she made the slightest effort.

Speak of the devil and he shall arise. Emmet strolls into the common room tossing an apple back and forth between his hands surveying his surroundings. He's looking for something amongst the other students around us but when his eyes fall to Bella and me whatever he was looking for is no longer as important as it seemed. In his eyes I can see sadness though mostly fatigue when he looks upon the scene we've created but he says nothing. The tossing of the apple ceases before he turns on he heels to leave us to our own devices.

"Emmett," I call at his retreating figure. He merely shakes his head without bothering to look back.

In my lap Bella scoffs, "Of course it's Emmett." She traces a line along his jaw causing it to smudge in her effort to provide more shading. The drawing shows the two of us sitting her in the common room with game controllers in our hands. I'm slightly younger or at least more youthful than she usually draws me but Emmett looks about the same. He is very excited and obviously winning as I sit more somber. I'm not bored or playing the part of the sore loser but I cannot hold a candle to Emmett's joyfully expression. I wish he were still looking over my shoulder as I'm sure he would enjoy seeing that even in Bella's world he wins.

Having spent a few good minute appraising the nostalgic feeling the drawing gives me I flip the page and find Emmett cocky grin smirking at me. She has drawn him in the midst of the lovesick Harley Quinn girls where he has never looked more at home. Lauren is to his left and receiving most over his attention while twirling a piece of her hair around her finger and looking at him with admiring eyes. The smile on her face is soft, mostly relaxed, as though she was attempting to grin but in a dazed state it mixed with a shocked expression.

To his right sits Tanya with her hand on his shoulder not yet digging in her nails but obviously applying pressure to make him turn his attention to her instead while Jessica stares daggers at Lauren over her shoulder. The scene is one I could easily see play out on any giving day last year but Emmett is changing. I don't like this new somber Emmett and his vendetta against Bella although I am powerless to stop this. The only way would be to rid myself of Bella which is an adventure on which I am not willing to embark. With her I am happier than I have even been and it is not Emmett's place to make it otherwise.

A part of me is tempted to alert Carlisle of his recent paranoia with Bella but the Good Doctor has a problem with my associating with anyone. First he claimed that the relationship between Emmett and I was unnatural and something I needed to let go of if I were ever to get better however I have never heard of a case where a patient became less ill in the absence of family. The entire theory seems uneducated and reminds me of his incompetence. Lately he has been warning me about Bella alternating between the damage I could do to her and the damage that she could do to me all while never making any physical attempts at keeping us apart.

At least Emmett tries. He is more persuasive in the way that he is constantly trying to say that there is something wrong with her. Of course there is something wrong with her. Why else would she be cast aside here with the rest of us? His argument differs from Carlisle in that he tries to convince me that she is purposefully driving a wedge between us. The only one purposefully acting in ill regard to the situation is him though he refuses to accept the blame. It infuriates me at times but starts the wheel in my head turning nevertheless.

Calmly a reach for the sketch book and close it causing Bella to look up at me. I clear my throat and prepare for things I truly would rather not know. Still, I ask, "Why are you here?"

AN: Review and cross your fingers. There just might be more where this came from.


	10. Secrets Revealed

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

The fact that she refuses to discuss with me what it that brought her to this place infuriates me. She counters that she doesn't ask about why I am among society's outcasts as well and I have no response. If she did ask me I do not know what I would tell her, that I have a temper that causes delusions and uncontrollable actions. Maybe that is what I should have said that first day in Biology when took Emmett seat next to me. That would have resolved quite a few of my current issues.

It's a Wednesday, I think, but I can't be sure right now. Time has muddled itself in my mind and though I know I've recently seen Carlisle I cannot tell if it's been two or three days since. All that matters to be is the beautiful young woman seated in my lap and sleeping on my chest as I suffer through a rerun of Full House. I ponder, now that they are grown, if anyone looks back on the Olsen twins thinking _I didn't see that coming_. They were cute enough but I was positive they would grow to be fat throughout their teenage years. They seemed the type to glutton themselves.

Bella snuggles closer to me looking for warmth in this frigid place. I'm wrapped around her as much as I can be but I'm scrawny and less built like a blanket then Emmett, who is still not speaking to her. "Edward," she whispers in the sweetest sigh that figuratively brings me to my knees. I used to answer back accidentally waking her when I would later realize she had been sleep talking.

Too often I have a starring role in her dreams. Sometimes she whispers my name and others she actually speaks with me or tells me what to do. Yesterday she was extremely angry with me in her dream accusing me of forgetting the avocados and ruining dinner. I told her I was allergic to avocados and she calmed down only to remember nothing when she woke a few minutes later. The entire affair amused me more than alarmed me but it was still unnerving.

Though unsettling as it was I prefer the days she whispers my name over the few she whispered his. "No, Jacob. It's not the same thing," she argues with someone I can only speculate is from her past. As far as I know there are no Jacob's currently in attendance at Madame's.

She squirms closer into me. "I love Edward," she whimpers.

My body goes stiff before I can stutter a response, "Ex-excuse me."

Her previously anxious demeanor softens and with eyes still shut tightly she tilts her head upward toward mine. A sigh escapes her parted lips. "I love you, Edward," she breathes nearly scaring me to death. I've never heard those words before other than a lifetime ago when my parents loved me but this is different. Bella isn't obligated to love me; she's choosing to feel this way.

My heart is speeding up in my chest and it hurts while at the same time feeling exciting. It's quickening my pulse and I want to ask her to say it again though I'm afraid that she won't, that it won't be true. All I can do is stare down at her in amazement and wonder how it is even possible for her to contemplate loving me let alone saying it aloud. I want to say it back but I don't know how. I don't know what I feel or how to say the words or if I even want to but I do want to kiss her.

Purposefully my lips descend upon her own wishing to devour the essence of the words, to taste them on her skin. It seems to awaken her and as she becomes more alert our kiss becomes more feverish. She is turning in my arms looking for a way to get her hands in my hair as she straddles my lap. As far as I can tell her eyes never even open but I am a little too preoccupied to really notice. She tastes like honey and possibly cough syrup. It has a bittersweet flavor to it and would explain why she often seems loopy before falling asleep.

Her hands in my hair tug harder than I like but who am I to tell her to stop? I love the feeling of her wanting me no matter how aggressively she chooses to show her affection. Her pelvis grinds against me and looking for friction but finding nothing. I know enough about the concept of mating to know that at this point something should be happening to me by now but I'm not feeling anything. Trying to incite a reaction I move my hands from around her and instead run them up from her waist to her breast. Being modestly breasted and overly hormonal Bella often chooses to disregard the mandatory bra policy and on this day I am thankful for it. Unfortunately even her t-shirt covered breasts are not enough to give me what I need and I'm not sure what else there is.

Her mouth breaks from mine when a moan I've caused cannot be contained. Rather than going right back to kissing she moves to my ear nibbling there and on my neck. It all feels so wonderful and I don't want her to stop. I want more but I'm unsure of what more is and she seems to be better at this than she should be. She seems less innocent than I would have liked her to be. I don't like it but it's doesn't explain way my body is still not reacting the way that a teenage boys should.

"Mmm, Edward," she whimpers into my ear when I bit her neck.

"Isabella!" The name does not fall from my lips but from that of another. We both halt to see that we have gathered an audience that is not without the dreaded Ms. Platt. "In the name of all that is good and descent what do you think you are doing?" she scolds shocked to find us in this predicament.

I myself am shocked. "Nothing," I reply when I find no other worthy substitution in my witty repertoire.

"That didn't look like 'nothing' to me or your fellow classmates, Edward. Gather your things the both of you and I expect you to immediately return to your rooms. This is not a brothel and I will not have you treating it as such." She is stamping her foot and pointing in the direction of the hall while informing us that Carlisle will by hearing about this. Joy.

On our way out of the room I spy Emmett leaned against a wall with a smug expression on his face. If anyone tattled it would have had to have been him. We'll be talking about that later.

To my surprise Ms. Platt chooses to scold the voyeurs as opposed to escorting us to our rooms. I take the opportunity to walk Bella to hers first and am pleasantly surprised when she begins to speak to me before going in instead of thrusting herself upon me in a heated lip locking love match that is our usual goodbye.

"I saw something that I wasn't supposed to see," she states and I nod to show her I understand what she is telling me. I've been anxiously awaiting the secrets of her past and while I wish she had chosen a different setting where I would not be receiving the condensed version I am glad that she is sharing at all. "Before I came here I had this friend that I grew up with all my life, Jacob. He was my best friend and we did everything together from homework to cliff diving until we eventually couldn't figure out why we weren't just dating. So we did."

She has flipped her sketch book over and is now tracing along different lines in the moon she created there. "It was nice enough since there weren't any other boys I wanted to be with but it wasn't like it is with you, I just didn't know any better back then. He and I shared all the same friends but went to different school because he lived on a reservation that had its own educational system. It wasn't a big deal until this guy Sam started a gang of some sort. I didn't know much about it but Sam was recruiting boys fast and was worrying Jacob because he was always after him and Jacob swore he'd never give in, at first.

"Eventually Sam got him and his first order of business was to make sure there were no outsiders. Jacob wasn't allowed to see me or talk to me or have anything to do with me and it scared me because he was all I had ever known. I thought I loved him back then and I thought that he loved me. I can see now how things would have been different if he did."

She paused for a minute in thought and I waited quietly until she was ready again. I should interrupt her here. She can't look me in the eye and her body is softly trembling even if she has yet to realize. I'm selfish though, so she continues. "One night I just couldn't take it anymore, I was going to see him and get answers whether he wanted to tell me or not.

"My first stop was supposed to be Jacob's house but when I got to the reservation I saw his car parked outside of the Clearwater house where my friend Leah lived. My ex-friend I guess since she was dating Sam but I stopped. I remember hearing Leah yelling from inside the house when I was getting out of my truck my but I didn't pay any attention to what she was saying. Then there was screaming.

"I ran inside thinking Leah was hurt and found her in her bedroom being restrained by Jacob, my Jacob, as she tried to get to someone. I could only see Sam's back as he straddled something in her bed. He was saying awful things and had a knife in his hand as I realized the girl screaming was in the bed under him. Then I screamed."

Her expression is beginning to become hallow. I know I'm and ass for not stopping her but I have to know now. It's gotten too far. "It got the attention of everyone there and Jacob went to grab me and lost control of Leah. It all happened in slow motion after that. Leah went after Sam. Jacob tackled me. The girl in the bed, who I later learned was Leah's cousin, ran out with blood gushing from the right side of her face leaving Leah and I to fend for ourselves.

"Sam got the upper hand on Leah and I stopped fighting Jacob when the knife went into her ribcage…then slid across her neck. I knew then that I was going to die. Sam rounded on Jacob and me but Jacob told him that he had me and that Sam needed to get Emily. It was like Jacob was the leader when Sam took off. I was scared to death because I knew then that Jacob was going to be the one to end this so you can imagine my surprise when he let me go."

I am surprised. Had I been in Jacobs's shoes and had Emmett been Sam I would have killed her and dealt with the sorrow later. It's safe to say that anyone is better for her than me. I just don't see how that got her here. "So you witnessed a murder and made it out alive?"

"For the most part," she whispered, "Jacob broke my hand when he landed on me and had to take me to the hospital but fed me the story on the way there. He told me I wouldn't be safe from Sam anymore so I'd have to go away to some place he'd never find me."

"Like here." I'm starting to understand.

"Right, so when we got to the hospital I told them that Jake was a werewolf and had lost control when shifting and scratched Emily's face while Jacob told the doctor that he and I broke up and I went crazy on his new girlfriend cutting her face so that he wouldn't find her attractive anymore."

I nod. "It provided an alibi for him by putting the blame on you and with you claiming to believe in werewolves they'd lock you away where Sam wouldn't find you?" I asked. It seems as though Jacob thought of everything. "But what about Leah?"

She shook her head staring blankly down. "Jacob said that Sam would be on the run after that. He didn't know what would happen with Emily and that's why we lied about her but he would get rid of Leah and spread the story that she ran off with Sam. We just had to hope that if Emily got away she'd be smart enough not to tell anyone what happened. He just couldn't stand taking the chance that Sam would ever come back looking for me."

It's frustrating. I can see how much she still care for Jacob and how he must have cared for her to protect her from Sam at all. _But I would have never put he in that kind of danger_…as soon as the thought occurs to me I want to slap my own face. I put her in danger just by existing. The only thing I can think to say is anything else. "And what happens when you get out of Madame's?"

"I move to Florida with my mom as a probation period for a while but after that I'm free," she states in the same monotone fashion as everything else since she mentioned Jacob's joining of the gang. "I'm tired now."

I lean in to give her a good night kiss but she still isn't looking at me. She just walks inside her room and closes the door behind her. I regret having to know but at least that part is over. I don't know what I'll do when she asks the same of me.

**AN: I've given it some thought and decided that i am not above bribery. On my Profile you can find a collection of things to come with a brief description of each. If you want a preview of what you may find in one of them then leave a review for this chapter including the name of the story your interested in getting a taste of. Example: _OMG! Ember is so amazing - The Illusion of Darkness_. Or some variation of that. :) Otherwise I will see you guys tomorrow when we go back to the Good Doctor for an evaluation.**


	11. The Bad Doctor

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

"And how did that make you feel?" asks Carlisle. He can be a real jerk when he wants to, like now as he's fighting back a laugh at my current situation. His pale face is uncharacteristically pink around the cheek area and every now and again I can see a wrinkle form in one of his laugh lines as a corner of his mouth begins to twitch. The last patient must have given him a warm batch of special brownies. That or he's finally gotten one of the cooks to put out. I can see how the Good Doctor might enjoy the sight of stockings and hair nets though the thought does nothing for my current mood.

I glare at his humorous expression thinking to myself of how ridiculous I was for requesting to see him immediately after yesterdays mind boggling issue. If I had just calmed down and given it some real thought I would have put two and two together to get four rather than blame the aliens for the abduction of my erection. There are still four more days before I would have been required to sit in this chair and listen to him talk down to me. I prefer the down talking to the way he is now making fun of me. "Like I should punch a doctor," I answer. He merely shakes his head and jots down some nonsense. At this point I'm not even sure he's capable of constructing a coherent thought and I muse over the idea that he could just be drawing naughty cartoons.

"Edward, Edward, Edward…" I still haven't figured out his fascination with saying my name three times. The only purpose it could possibly serve is to further annoy me until I really do punch the doctor. I have a history of violence. It could happen. "We do these things for you safety and for the safety of the young ladies attending as well. Many of the males in attendance are in less control of their urges than they believe themselves to be and we must protect against mishaps."

He's still holding back the amusement I see clearly in his eyes. "Then you should be passing out that stuff to those in need when it comes time for meds before bed, not slipping it into Monday's meatloaf and making the rest of us suffer," I grumble, "I thought something was wrong with me, other than the usual." My argument has no basis. I understand we they do it and I see the benefit. I just don't like it.

Carlisle puts down his notebook and pin to make eye contact with me. "Alright, you give me a good reason why it is necessary for you or any other male in this school to have an erection and I'll see what I can do about changing the rule," he holds up one finger, "Just one good reason."

He waits. There isn't a good reason. The only real reason for an erection is to be able to create life which I'm too young to be doing and truly have no desire to do. It would be just my luck that whatever female I chose would give birth to the most aesthetically pleasing bundle of joy only to have it cut our throats in our sleep years later. Yeah, sign me up for that.

When I don't respond he nods. "Why don't we back up a little bit then? You said it was during down time in the common room when the urge struck you, is that correct?" I nod and he continues. "What were you doing exactly?"

"I was relaxing," I answer knowing it's not what he is searching to find.

"I hardly think the act of winding down after a hard day of sleeping through your classes was cause for you want or need an erection. I want to know physically what was happening around you, to you, in your head. We're looking for contributing factors here to help you."

"I don't need help. I thought there was something wrong with me medically because I couldn't get it to do what I thought it should but I now know that it's all because of you and its fine. I didn't need it anyway," I brood. My arms are folded across my chest like a petulant child and I refuse to make eye contact. This school has done enough to me without my letting its faculty toy with me like some pet. I can't give him the satisfaction of knowing that it kills me to have this taken from me. He can't see how much I want to be like a normal boy and do normal things like masturbate when I find that I am consumed by impure thoughts of the most divine nature. It's not any better than admitting defeat.

The carpet is new. I'm not sure how new since I haven't really noticed it lately but I remember it was once a dingy brown while now I find it to be a dark beige. Maybe someone finally got around to washing it and this was what lay underneath all along. It certainly smells better than it did on my first visit but some of that can be attributed to the fact that Carlisle is now a reformed smoker. The many ash trays he once used now hold colored beads though not the kind you would find at Mardi Gras.

Carlisle stands and walks around his desk the way that he does when he wants be to feel like he's my friend and not my doctor, like he's on my level. I'm sure it really helps to make the ladies open up. "It's not been taken away, Edward. At least it hasn't been in the permanent fashion. Once you get better, or turn eighteen, you'll be out of here and able to do what you will with your penis whether it be you're much desired alone time or whatever new uses you might find for it.

"It's definitely not broken or you would not have had the urge at all though I am surprised it's taken you this long to notice. Most of the males are panicking in my office within the first week. I guess I assumed that you were already aware of the side effects of the 'meatloaf' as you call it." His lip twitches again. I can see it from the corner of my eye.

I have more questions, mores fears about my body and desires I wish I could discuss but he's so condescending at this point that I feels as though I would only be giving him ammunition.

He begins to drum his fingers on the desk as if contemplating scooting back a bit and taking a seat on it. How unprofessional. "Let's start with your surroundings. Who was there with you?"

"No one."

He pushes for more. "It was the common room after class. I know better than to believe you were alone. Were you with Miss Swan?"

I cough. "Among others," is my ultimate defense.

He nods a bit as he tries to think of a gentle way to lead this horse to water. I won't be going willingly. "Does the idea of others watching you cause this arousal? Perhaps you are excited at the thought of having more than one woman at a time." he suggests.

The best response is to say 'yes' and let him think I fantasize about the same things my peers enjoy but that would be far to easy for me to accept. "No, I'm not against monogamy or privacy for that matter. I wasn't raised in a whore house," I trail off at the end knowing if I mention my upbringing we'll end up off on a tangent about my childhood. It's always the same with these quacks. One way or another no matter what I say or do there is someway they can connect it to my parents. Elizabeth and Edward Sr. were good people, are good people. They raised me right and taught me to always be respectful toward women. How I choose to be now is no fault of theirs and all of mine.

"I see," he comments despite the fact that I know he doesn't, "When was they first time you found yourself aroused? Was it just yesterday or was there a time before you came here when you saw a pretty girl and were overcome with them excitement that brings about the erection?"

It pisses me off that he even bothers to ask. He's memorized my file by now making the questioning pointless. He knows I loved a woman in my past but I play along to see where he is taking this. "There were times before." I'm giving him what he's looking for while still defiantly not answering his question outright.

"Describe one of these times to me."

Alright, I'll bite. "There was this girl at the house one time." She had been there many times before and would be many more after. "She was swimming laps in the pool in the backyard when I got home from school. It was like something off Baywatch when she came out of the water in her one piece suit smiling and dripping water. She winked at me," and immediately followed it by tongue kissing Emmett when he walked away from the grill to give her a towel. The memory still stings but I do recall feverishly jerking off a few minutes later in my bothers room. The place was such a mess he never even noticed that came on his carpet and just left it there.

Carlisle takes the scene in stride, most likely thinking of how he'll imagine it later when he's taking care of business with the lunch lady. "Was this by any chance Rosalie?"

I want to slap him. He knows it was Rosalie. "Yeah," I mutter and await his diagnosis.

"Was this before or after the accident?" he asks. This is the tip of his hand that I have been waiting for, the momentary flash of the cards he holds. If I admit this was before then I would establish a motive, a premeditated reason for what I have done. Then I'm not insane, just a murderer.

I sigh. "No it was after, probably the beginning of the end."

He smirks at me knowing my game. I'm not about to let him or anyone else for that matter walk me into a trap.

Calmly he walks back around to the doctor side of his desk and takes a seat closing his notebook without adding a word to it. I don't have to wonder why he doesn't add the new information. It really isn't anything new that I lie to him. "Was there every a time before?" he wastes his breath voicing.

"Never."

"And in the common room it was likely Miss Swan's grinding on you that had you feeling the need for an erection, correct?"

I knew Ms. Platt had opened her fat mouth about it. The Good Doctor was just enjoying this little game of cat and mouse at my expense. So much for there being a single person in this place that I can trust. "Yeah, something about he hot little sex against me had me wanting to tear into her whether she was up for it or not. You know, I might just skip meals for the next couple of days until my little friend is ready to go and just have my way with her in the dining hall. I bet it'd be quite the…"

"That's enough," he shouts raising himself from his chair, "This isn't a game, Edward. This is a young girl's life you are weaseling your way in to and keeping her from getting better. She has her own issues to deal with that she can't focus on with your tongue down her throat and hands in her pants."

I stand up to match him shout for shout. "Don't pull that crap with me. She's not sick and you of all people should know that. You're her damn doctor. Can't you tell?"

He starts to say something but thinks better of it shaking his head and starting again. "Is that what she told you?" he asks a little too calmly. I don't know why exactly but I choose not to answer and instead watch him take his seat and pick up his phone. He dials some sort of code and requests an escort before ending the call. "I think it would be best for the two of you to spend some time apart. I'll be putting you on lock down until I find the time to speak with Miss Swan. A few days looking at your own for walls might just be good for you."

I'm still standing, still fuming, towering over him. "Are you kidding me?" I shout, "You're grounding me because you a shitty doctor you can't tell the sick ones for the fakers?"

"I'm not grounding you. I'm giving you some much needed solitude for you to reflect on recent events and get control of that temper of yours until I can get a better understanding of the situation." He's twirling his pen in hand and looking at me as though he has just declared 'Checkmate' in our battle of wits. "The separation will be best for everyone involved."

"This is bullshit," I scream knocking over and golf statue on his desk just as my escorts walk through the door. There are two and they each grab and arm to drag me out without even bother to request that I join them. I would have walked myself.

As soon we were in the hall I hear Carlisle shout, "He'll need to be temporarily sedated." It only makes me thrash more knowing that as soon as the brutes have me behind closed doors they'll drug me and then who knows what they'll do. Sick bastards. I give them a good fight all the way until the needle goes in.

**AN: We're so close to the end that I'm getting all weak kneed. I would have had this up much sooner but my computer at work has limited internet and I was late this morning and left my flash drive at home which is still not as bad as this past Friday when I left my keys at works and fell halfway down the stairs at my apartment carrying books and notepads and my cold coffee from earlier in the day. My two year old found it hilarious. Anyway, No flash drive means I couldn't write at work and when i got home I tried to finish up on my desktop but it only stays on for fifteen minutes before it freezes and has to be rebooted, which is really frustrating if I go ten minutes without saving and lose all sorts of good stuff. Then I get frustrated and don't want bother with it at all but my phone beeps whenever I get a message or a review or any other stuff and i remember that it's not about me, it's about you. Immediately following I put my big girl britches on and get to work. Thus, you get an update. You're welcome!**


	12. The Elusive Past

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

It's day two of the Edward Masen lockdown experiment to see how long it takes me to crack. Lucky for me, I have Emmett. Unlucky for me, I have Emmett.

"If you'd just listened to me you wouldn't be stuck in here. I told that girl was bad news." I hate his 'I-told-you-so-attitude' more than I hate looking at his face which is quite a bit right now. It's not Bella's fault that Carlisle can't handle a little constructive criticism.

"Shut up, man. I don't want to hear it." Lying in the floor next to the bed may not have been the best way to avoid my brother but when I first laid here I thought he and I would be working out our differences. Now I'm either too comfortable or I now that when I get up my entire body is going to ache like a bitch.

"Fine, what would you like to talk about?" he asks rolling over onto his side and looking down at me.

I don't know what I want to talk about. My everyday life has now become absorbed by Bella who happens to be the last person I want to tell Emmett. The way I see it the only safe bet is to talk about the good old days, before I ruined everything. "Tell me about Alice again."

He rolls away from me and onto his back again. "Geez, aren't you a little old for bedtimes stories?" he huffs.

"No."

An exhausted sigh is all I need to hear to know I won. He used to love telling me all about her and the things that I was too young to remember. Sometimes when he talks about her I can't tell if he's just that great of a story teller or if I really do remember as the vision of a dark haired temper throwing girl springs to mind.

"Ali, little Mary-Alice, was the best thing that ever happened to our family…and you hated her." I can hear the smile in his voice so I close my eyes and let it take me to a place I forgot long ago, a cottage style house just out of town and just before the local reservoir. "When I first laid eyes on the little angel her hair was sorter than yours and I thought mom made a mistake and got a little boy…"

I stop him, "Because I wanted a boy and you didn't go with us to get her that day, right?"

He laughs a little chuckle as I envision me and mom in the station wagon on our way to the church. I imagine I was excited even though I said I wasn't. "Yeah, that was back when dad made me try every sport for at least a season. I want to say it was soccer season but it could have been anything.

"Dad and I got back home only like ten minutes before you guys did, enough time to stuff some pizza rolls into the microwave and settle into my beanbag chair just in time for some Dragonball Z. That show was the best. Then the door opens and Ali bear walks in with you and mom right behind her."

My mind concocts the image of her puff pink coat and Barbie rain boots as I see her from behind and also catch a glimpse of Emmett half way out of his beanbag chair with a partially chewed pizza roll hanging out of his open mouth. Mom probably would have said something about acting like a gentleman and closing his mouth. She was always correcting us that way.

"If it weren't for the fact that she looked like a slightly bigger version of a bottle of Pepto-Bismol I probably would have educated you guys on the difference in a girl and a boy. I was expecting a blond with pigtails and the home get up with the way mom went on and on about wanting a little Princess and how there was too much testosterone in the house. It took me another year to figure out what testosterone was," he jokes.

"You were never the brightest bulb in the box," I tease.

He throws a pillow at me but for all the sports he's mastered his aim is still shit. "Hey!" he shouts.

"Hey nothing. You didn't figure out until high school that mom lied to you about the phones on the Golden Gate Bridge."

"That's not fair, it was a reasonable explanation at the time and I never thought about it again until sophomore year."

We were vacationing one year and mom took us across the Golden Gate Bridge just to say that we had been there. Emmett had his face pressed up against the glass while I tried to hold my breath thinking that if the bridge collapsed and I was holding it in I wouldn't drown. Perfectly logical. Emmett was nine and I was seven at the time and he was fascinated by everything he saw. He asked enough questions that I never had to; I just sat back and listened.

Along the bridge there are payphones hanging from railings though everyone drove by them and Emmett felt the need to ask who they were for. Mom never missed a beat telling him that the phones were there so that when desperate adults went to the bridge to commit suicide they would be able to call Jesus first and he would talk them out of it. Another perfectly logical explanation for a child but it makes me wonder why mom would immediately jump to suicide and Jesus rather than any other non-death related explanation. It certainly would have been more suitable.

"She was the best," he says getting back to the memories, "She waltzed right in, scooted me with her butt, and took over half my beanbag along with most of my pizza rolls."

From what I remember, or at least heard, Alice took to Emmett liked they been together all there lives. "After that she and I were inseparable. I taught her how to play catch even though it was more like fetch because she was so bad at tossing it back that she'd just run over and hand it to me. I taught her to fish and swim that summer while you turned into the little Princess mom was looking for, always inside baking and doing laundry with her. She could never send you off to play with us because you'd get jealous and Ali would get hurt.

"There was this one time at the park…you were supposed to be pushing Ali on the swing but thought you could kill two birds with one stone by standing up behind her so that you could swing too."

"In my defense the swings at a public park should be strong enough to hold two 40lb kids," I grumble but thought about a bright day spent in winter coat where the frost was biting at my nose but none of us were ready to go back inside. Alice squealed 'wee' as loud as she could and I was right there with her having the time of my life until the chain broke right where it held the seat and we tumbled to the ground, little Alice breaking my fall.

"Boy was she made at you. I don't think she spoke to you for a week after that."

Still I cannot tell memory from my imagination. It's one of the reasons I'm stuck in this place. "She did eventually, right?"

He lets out a breath and I notice it sounds a little heavy and reluctantly he continues. "Yeah, you guys made up a few weeks before the end. I think you fixed her Easy Bake or something like that but she said she forgave you. Then she got a little weird. Maybe mom and dad didn't notice and maybe it was just because they were finally starting the adoption paperwork work, but I feel like she knew something was going to happen."

That part I know I remember. Even if I'm not sure about her role in it or even whether I'm remembering her face or something my mind has replaced it with, I do remember social workers coming to take to her. I remember dad yelling a lot though never at us and mom crying just as much. I think I remember Alice being different, not as happy but it wasn't like she was sad either. She just wasn't herself as Emmett said.

"I don't remember _him_. Did we ever meet the guy?" I don't have to explain who I'm talking about. Emmett knows netter than I do and probably holds more hatred because of that. It's easier to let go of things you don't recall feeling.

It takes him a minute to answer. He gets out of the bed and strolls over to my desk chair making himself comfortable in a seat where he can see me. I see the transition but close my eyes again preferring to see the past as it unfolds.

"I saw him once. I don't really know if you did or not but he was in the courtroom when I was brought in to be questioned. He was tall and if it weren't for the same dark coarse black hair on his head I would have thought there was no way he was Alice's dad. At the time I probably didn't believe it anyway.

"Things were ugly after that. Alice had been so accident prone that her hospital records were brought into question like they thought mom and dad beat her. Case workers agreed that Alice was clumsy and had had several accidents before but the fact of the matter was that she had never had more than when she was with us. Looking back I know now that it was because she had never been with any family for more than a few months and she was with us for a year, plus with you and I being growing boys we could get a little rough. No one thought about that."

In the time she spent with us she sprained a wrist and an ankle and had gotten stitches three times over ridiculous adventures Emmett took her on. Well, the wrist was my fault but that was from the swing set accident.

"Then they talked to me and you. They made mom and dad sound negligent because I was stung by that jellyfish on our beach vacation when she was supposed to be watching me. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't jumped on it thinking it was a toy I was keeping from Alice. Better me than her. And when they questioned you they made it sound like you hated her and you told the truth about all the arguments and how she annoyed you because you didn't know any better. I was older than I you and I would have said the same stuff if it were true."

For a long time I carried the loss of Alice on my shoulders thinking that if I hadn't been bad they wouldn't have taken her away. "He didn't get her though, did he?"

"No, Quil didn't get her. Nobody did. After the lawyers were finished manipulating us they turned on mom and dad again making it seem like they waited so long to file for adoption because they didn't really want Alice until her dad did. To counter that our lawyers brought up that Alice had been in foster care since she was nine months old and taken from her mom. Her dad could have claimed her at any time but didn't want her until the papers were filed.

"At four years old Alice was too young for the state to allow her to choose where she would go. They made our parents out to be abusive and negligent while her biological father was supposedly only looking for a welfare check, I don't know how true that was. Maybe he really didn't have a clue she existed until then. But suddenly there was no one good enough for little Ali bear and she was tossed back into the system."

I remember missing her, mom crying and dad working all the time, Emmett getting meaner everyday – but what I recall the most is that after that day there was never another foster child in our house. "Do you ever think about what happened to her after that?" I ask.

He nods. "Every now and then mom would try to get new information of her just to see if they ever found a family for her. Secretly I think that she hoped to find whoever adopted her and arrange some sort of visitation, something we all could live with. No one would work with her but she never gave up. Every year on Ali's birthday she'd send a gift and make a call hoping they would just tell her that Ali was there or gone, happy and healthy. I plan to track her down myself when she turns eighteen. Hopefully she's not adopted or married because I doubt she'll be all that easy to find with a different last name."

"Can I help?"

"I hope so," he teases, "You've got some apologizing to do when we find her."

I always did.

There isn't much left to say on the subject. Our family moved on for the most part, only thinking of our little sister every once in a while but mostly living our lives. It's probably for the best that she left us anyway. There's no telling how I could have hurt her too.

I rack my brain for more of the good times to talk about; enjoying the break from the Bella filled aspects of my mind as much as Emmett is. I'm just about to suggest he tell me about the road trip he and dad went on when he first learned to drive but I'm interrupted by my bedroom door opening wide.

In the doorway stands the Good Doctor and his brainless henchmen. His eyes bore into mine while the Henchmen start to search my room without warning. "If you're looking for the drugs you might want to snoop through my underwear drawer. Careful though, I tend to forget to wash them," I advise them as the continue snooping and ignoring me.

Carlisle smirks menacingly, "Where is she, Edward?"

For once I don't have to play dumb but I choose to be an ass. "Who? Your wife? She slipped out half an hour ago saying something about how much less time it takes when a real man works her over. You shouldn't expect to get any for a while; she was walking kind of funny when she left."

He folds his arms over his chest still amused. "Miss Swan, where is she?"

Game over. "You lost her?" I scream jumping up from the floor to stare at him incredulously.

"Don't pretend like you don't know. You've got her stashed somewhere and I will find her. Might as well just tell me where she is before someone gets hurt."

"Are you threatening me?" It wouldn't be the first time. "You lose one of your patients and you automatically think I had something to do with it? I think you did. Where the fuck is she Carlisle? Where are _you_ hiding my Bella?" I yell more as I stalk toward him, "I swear if you've done something to her…" I've almost reached him when the needle goes into my spine. "I won't take the fall for this," I manage to choke out before the medication takes over and his cocky grin is the last thing I see.

**AN: It's late I know but I like it better than what it looked like last night. I was a little distracted be my little Turtle learning how to use his stuffed elephant as a punching bag. Why can they just stay sweet and innocent little babies all their lives?**


	13. Utterly Exposed

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing.

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

Four days she went missing and four days I was strapped to a table and sedated, told I would be freed as soon as I told them where they could find Bella. I held stead fast to my belief that Carlisle had done something to her to pin it on me. She was just another insane person the world wouldn't miss, collateral damage to ensure I was never allowed out again.

On the evening of the fourth she was found.

"You're a danger to her, Edward. Whether you realize it or not you are detrimental to her health," Carlisle advises me in my still slightly drunken state. They stopped administering the drugs and freed me when local authorities found her naked and disoriented at some gas station. I have yet to see her and though falsely accused I am to receive no apology either. I'm evil.

"Her fragile mind has attached her to you and in the wake of your solitude she could not cope with reality and fled. Does this sound like a healthy girl to you?" he asked.

"I think anyone who is locked in this asylum falsely accused and doesn't try to escape is insane. She would have made a run for it whether I was here or not. You're just fishing for ways to blame me," I accuse. The whole situation is getting to me.

"Miss Swan is not who you think she is. She is sick and she's here to receive help regardless of what you believe. Not unlike you she has a history of violence and cannot be allowed to wander among society in her condition."

"She never hurt that girl." I mumble.

"Which girl, Edward? The one who ankle she crushed in her dance recital five years ago? The one whose dog she poisoned in the hopes that it would turn in her and attack? The one who now refuses to smile because it spreads out the scars across her face inflicted by the file of the nail clippers Bella kept on her keychain?" The whole while her is digging for I file before locating it a sitting back behind his desk. "Or perhaps it's the four year old girl whom she informed that the only way to lean how to swim was to jump? Bella took her to a 50ft cliff to test the theory and when the girl jumped Bella watched. Four year old Claire Young."

No, it can't be true. Bella isn't sick. She couldn't have done those things. He's lying. He's a liar. "You're lying!" I yell but my voice is hoarse and holds none of the conviction I feel, "She told me that Sam-"

"Ah, yes. Then you must be referring to the story of Emily young and her werewolf boyfriend," He says with a smug look, "Sam Uley was a grief counselor on the La Push reservation just outside of Bella's hometown of Forks. At the time the police had no leads on the disappearance of Claire Young who had been visit with her older sister Emily Young.

"Sam opened a support group for the teens of the reservation that included Bella closest friend Jacob Black, the only witness able to say that the last person Claire was seen with was indeed Bella. We think that this scared her at the time. She'd been threatened before about her behavior but this was the first time she had ever killed and she knew that this was one that wouldn't be swept under the rug."

He's full of lies. There's not way Bella could ever be capable of such but still I cannot help listening. I tell myself I'm looking for holes in his story.

"Bella wanted to join the support group and the search for Claire but Jacob wouldn't allow it. He later told police that while he didn't want to believe she was capable of hurting the child he also knew that it was suspicious that Bella refused to admit to being the last one with her. He was afraid that if he was wrong and she had done something that she would compromise the investigation and they'd never find Claire.

"She was persistent to say the least and Emily was constantly going back and forth between Sam and Jacob for support and comfort. It made her angry to see another woman getting the attention she believed belonged to her and she concocted this story about how all the boys on the reservation were werewolves. The night she got to Emily she told her she had to save her from them and when Emily wouldn't go along with it Bella decided to scar her face saying that she'd be safe from the if she wasn't pretty anymore.

"Jacob only barely got to them in time as Emily went into shock and Bella attempted to remove her eyeball. They ended up at the local hospital since Jacob didn't know what else to do and he finally told the police that night of the things he had been withholding. When I found her there the next day she was entirely convinced that Sam did it, that he was a werewolf and had lost control. She even went so far as to blame anything of the boys for falling in love with the little girl saying that killing her was the only way to save her from him and his pedophilic ways."

It doesn't make sense, not my Bella. I hate that I'm too drugged to argue, to make sense of the lies as he defends their truth. Bella is all that is good and pure in this place. She's not sick, just scared of Sam. He a gangster and a murderer and he killed Leah. She watched him stab Leah.

"No," I choke out, "Sam killed Leah, what about Leah?"

Carlisle looks at me quizzically for a minute as her flips through her file some more, looking for the cliff notes on Bella's best friend. "There is no…Leah…" he trails off reading further before he has a 'Eureka' moment. "Bella is schizophrenic, Edward. Leah was one of Bella's weaker personalities which she had to justify as a casualty when she came here. Her medication only allows her to be one person though her multiple memories confuse her as to what is truth and what is fantasy in her past. Though they conflict at times Bella will see them as all true, it will just be that parts of them are true for someone else."

How can he be so calm talking about her this way, telling these lies he knows I'll never believe? Why am I too tongue tied to defend her? I need to speak with her. I have to tell her the terrible things that are being said about her. She has to be warned about these vicious lies if she's ever going to reclaim her life outside these walls. It's not fair. What does he tell her about me?

As if sensing my doubt he continues violating his doctor/patient confidentiality agreement. "You're aware that when we found her she was without her clothing, correct?" I nod because my mouth won't move. "She claimed to the officers on the scene that she had shifted into a werewolf and shredded all her clothes but couldn't explain how she got there or where a single shred of her attire could be found."

**AN: Sorry about this coming out so late in the day but I got off work late and took my son to the zoo until it closed...then there was dinner and wrestling and other good stuff. I'm sure you guys understand. Don't forget to review and if you ever want to know where I'm at on an update check me out on twitter.** .com/AnEmberAglow **I update my status all day long and even post when i'm having trouble in case anyone wants to add their own thoughts to my head. See you guys tomorrow...we're so close now.**


	14. Slight Agitation

**Disclaimer:** I am not Stephanie Meyer nor do I lay claim to any of her accomplishments, characters included.  
That being said, I am Emberlyn Ealise and other than character names I do own all ideas behind _Lines on Paper_. Any thievery will result in the end of any and all works under my name on this site and depending on how popular I become that may be an issue for possible future fans. If you wouldn't steal babies then don't steal stories. Ask any writer, it's practically the same thing..

**Lines on Paper  
Emberlyn Ealise**

"You lied to me!"

"I didn't lie."

"You sure as hell didn't tell me the truth."

"I did. I swear I did."

"Then why the fuck is Carlisle telling me something else?"

"Because…"

I punch the wall behind her head, hard. "Why? Why did you leave? Why were you naked when they found you? Why are you lying?" I scream into her face and watch as she closes her eyes and cowers. I couldn't care less that I'm scaring the shit out of her. She lied to me, she tried to leave me, she deserves what she gets.

"He doesn't like it when you touch me," she whispers. It's more of a whimper really, coupled with her inability to look me in the eye.

This makes just as much sense to me as all her other lies did. "That's bullshit, Bella. He knows I won't stay away from you no matter what he tells me. No matter how sick you are you should have been the one to make me aware. I'd rather you had never told me then to make up this bullshit. I'm in here because I'm sick, I'm fucked up in the head and I don't function out there like I should. Why would anything you tell me make a difference now?"

She sobs and rubs her nose still looking down but I feel myself closing in on her. "I'm not sick, I didn't lie. He's lying. He told me I had to stay away from you…that you weren't allowed to touch what belongs to him."

Great, now she makes even less sense. "What do you mean 'what belongs to him'? Damn it!" I swear hitting the wall again, "Quit playing these games with me and tell me the truth."

"Carlisle knows I'm not sick but he still makes me see him…" she trails off with pleading eyes but I do not understand where this is going, "He takes me into his office and he makes me do things…" Still, I don't get it. "God, Edward! He makes me touch him and he touches me and kisses me and tells me that if I tell anyone I'll never get out of here. He went too far, and I ran, and I had no clothes…I don't want to be here forever and I don't want to be out there so I do as I'm told and I don't say anything but it hurts so much because I don't want him to touch me," she clarifies, "I only want you."

Just like that she drops the atomic bomb on top of my head and forces her lips to mine in the most feral mixture of fear and passion. I should be doing something, anything but this. I grip her waist in my hands and push back against her with as much strength as I can muster. I want to taste her, touch her, rid her if that acidic doctor that dared to think he could claim what is mine.

She moans against me in a whisper of my name and it kills me that I still cannot force my body to react the way it should. I need to claim her as mine but Carlisle has taken from me that which makes me a man. He has caressed her, felt her heat and flesh around him in ways robbed from me. Now all I'm capable of is rough kisses and hair pulling.

"I want you," she says, rubbing her sex against a numb part of me, "I need you."

Just because I cannot have the release I need does not mean that Bella shouldn't. We're a few hallways away from my room where I'm sure to find Emmett brooding however Bella's room is a quick turn to the left and a few doors down. I've yet to see the inside of the room but as I halt our kisses and lead her in that direction she does not object. Her mind is likely as much of a puddle as mine.

It's barely a minute later when the door closes with me sitting atop her small bed watching her slowly walk toward me. Her sway is as sexy as the models on TV and once I'm within reach she pounces at me causing our bodies to tumble into the bedding. I want to see her, to look into her brown eyes as she smiles down at me with a curtain of hair shielding us from the outside world. But she attacking my neck and nibbling on my ear while I rub my pelvis against her trying to give her the friction she craves.

I wish I knew more about this. I've never been with a woman before. These were things I'd only done in my dreams of…someone else. I can't think about _her_. Anything is better than the woman who tore my world apart, our world. She was stunning and smart and kind on the surface but with her she brought things I couldn't begin to understand. She ignited a fire in me that consumed me in ways the female now atop me could not. Try as she might she does not hold and candle my first love. Our first love.

"Don't ever stop," she whispers, nails digging into me. I think she's trying to coax an erection out of me but she doesn't say they words. Maybe in one of their 'sessions' Carlisle told her about my problem. I wouldn't put it past him to use it against me that he could do things to her I could not. Make her feel things that I had never made any woman feel.

I cannot take it anymore. I flip her over on the bed to establish my dominance. For a moment she looks terrified that I might be stopping but I remedy that by slipping my hands under her shit and raising in over her breasts. Eyes never leaving mine, she lifts her arms and together we slide it the rest of the way off leaving her bare chest exposed. From this position her breasts are more spread apart than usual but I blame gravity and immediately take one of her nipples in my mouth the way I'd seen in my short phase of porn watching.

She moans and raises her hips just like the other girls did fisting her fingers into my scalp and saying things I was to busy to hear. I've heard men talk about the amazing taste of a woman skin and nipples but this isn't really the case. It's softer than the skin of her neck but it all tastes the same. The only thing that keeps me going is the intense pleasure she is gaining. Despite not identifying her words I love that I'm making her moan and whimper, say things she won't mean in another hour.

Expertly she moves her hand to her other nipple tugging and pinching to feel there what I'm making her feel with my mouth. I take the hint and share my attention between both breasts until she's rocking and withering. The sight is beautiful and I bite a little here and there for my own pleasure.

"Ugh, I need you..." she groans trying to control her body's reaction, "to touch me."

I suck harder on her breast before releasing it with a loud pop and trailing kisses to her jeans before I removed them and her underwear allowing her to be completely naked while I remain dressed. Her body is dainty and beautiful though not like the girls in Emmett's magazines. She's definitely not as trimmed as them but I'm sure that has something to do with the fact that Madame's faculty refuses to allow the females near razors. The sight confirms the notion that I will not be putting my mouth there but I will find her some sort of release.

Slowly I lay my body atop hers once again and I bring my mouth to hers not sure what else to do. She takes my hand and runs it down the length of her torso knowing better than I how her needs must be met. Too soon I could hear her breathing hitch as my fingers came in contact with a nub-like thing below the fur. It isn't really sexy, her breathing and twitching is sexy but the button thing itself doesn't feel sexy or give me any pleasure in touching it. I just keep kissing her and agitating it until she practically has a seizure and tells me to stop.

She pants heavily and is covered in a light sheen of sweat leaving me around 70% positive that she has had an orgasm but it wasn't like in the movies. Maybe there putting something in her food too.

Her eyes are closed as her breathing calms and I snuggle next to her. All signs point to her falling asleep and I'm glad I could give her that above all else. I won't sleep. My mind is in another wing of the hospital with a doctor who needs to be taught the rules about doctor patient relations. As soon as she's fully asleep I'll be dealing with him.

**AN: I know I took forever but I've been on a roll with next months creations...forgive me this once and the last two chapters will be up next week.**


	15. A Failure to Communicate

**Disclaimer: **I am not Stephenie Meyer. All other standard disclaimers apply.

**Lines on Paper**

**Emberlyn Ealise**

My left hand crosses over my body to lay on her abdomen, gently rising and falling with the feel of her breath. In this form she is the picture of loveliness and innocent to a fault. How age truly came to dwell in this place is a feat I cannot imagine though at this point I can do little other than stare at her closed eyes.

The warm vats of chocolate I've grown accustomed to twitch slightly behind her lids signifying the fact that she is dreaming. This would be the perfect time to leave if I wasn't so enraptured by her. It's not as thigh this were the first time I'd watched her sleep. She dozed of on more occasions than I could count but never before had she looked so serene.

Her skin holds less of it's pale hue appearing warmer and enticing to touch. I find my own hand tubing soft circles around her navel but no where else. I've touched all of her now whether I deserved to or not. Bella is mine and I am hers and I cannot aglow that foul doctor who defiled her to go on breathing another day.

"Mmm," she moans and I feel she's enjoying my touch.

"You're so beautiful," I whisper against her ear. My reward is a trembling throughout her body. It makes her even more so.

"Edward," she breathes. It is my name she lives and breathes, not Carlisle and not Jacob. It is I whom she trusts, whom she wants, whom must protect her from them all.

"I right here, Bella," I assure, brushing her hair back away from her face. It tangles between my fingers and I wonder what she would have been like had we met outside these walls. Would she have smelt like sugar scented body lotion? Would her hair have been layered in Coconut conditioner? Would her skin hold the red tinted glow of too many hours at the beach? Would things have been better had we met first instead of she and Jacob?

Would she have been the only person to stop me from what brought me here?

"I love you," she sighs. This time I'm ready for it.

"I love you too," I answer before placing a small kiss on her forehead, "I always have."

She stirs a little more before finally finding comfort and letting out a light snore. It's all the encouragement I nged to leave heer bed and make my way into the hall.

It's as bright as ever making me wish I had sunglasses indoors. The lights overhead are plenty enough without reflecting off the white walls and linoleum floors. All shine back at me illuminating my every flaw. But mine are not on the table right now, his are.

My footsteps slap lightly beneath me but they are the only ones I hear. The time of day escapes me. For all I know it's three in the morning and the staff has forgotten to turn out the lights. They're too anal for that though. It's likely dinner time and Bella and I aren't missed.

I turn back the way I came earlier with Bella. The feel of o ur passion is now only luke warm in my veins. Instead my blood pumps to the beat of a furious drum, one pounding in my ears. It's so loyd even my head is aching though it's nothing to what the doctor will soon feel when my hands close around his throat.

"Don't do this, man," advises the brother who has suddenly decided to grace me with his presence. It's been too long now for his words to have any effect.

"Why shouldn't I? You would have killed a man in a heartbeat for touching Rosalie," I reminded him.

"True, but I would have known Rose was telling the truth. Bella's got so many stories. How so you even know what to believe?" He questioned coming to my side to match me step for step.

"I trust Bella. Carlisle the one who's lying." I don't understand why but I don't like the way that sounds.

Emmett doesn't either. "You're sick, Eddie. You didn't get put in here by accident and neither did anybody else including Bella," he points out. But Bella's not sick. Bella's in danger and I have to show her that I can protect her.

"Go away, Em. You wouldn't understand." I pick up the pace to leave him behind.

He's relentless. "Why? Because I didn't before?" He shouted. "I didn't know any better then. I didn't know how fragile you were our what went through you mind after the accident. We all thought you were just a little shaken up and you didn't tell us any different. I see the difference now."

No, he still can't see. He doesn't know what she means to me or how she needs me. I'll do anything for her. "I love her," I say as we stop outside the door to Carlisle office.

He says nothing. There's nothing he can say. Yet again, he didn't know any better.

To knock or not to knock, that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the defensive stance of a man pre-warned of his doom or to take arms against his defenseless form as he has done with my Bella. And by opposing I shall end him.

Shakespeare was never my forte but it fit well for the scene. The debate of knocking is just another useless delay tactic and I wash it from my mind as I reach for the handle. It's not locked, never is, and provides me with the easy access I need.

As I enter Carlisle jumps to stands up behind his desk. I didn't make a dramatic entrance, no screaming and yelling or throwing the door open wide so that it hit into the wall announcing my presence. No, it was my facial expression alone that told him I had come for blood.

"Edward?" he questions as though I could be someone else. There was only ever me.

"Hello, Doctor Cullen," I respond menacingly. I can feel the smirk tugging at my lip and I know I'm going to enjoy this much more than the last time. This time he deserves it. "Care to take a guess as to why I'm here today?" I step forward leaving the door open knowing the light from the hallway is providing an eerie shadow.

Carlisle clears his throat. "That'll be all for today, Miss Webber," he dismisses Suicide Girl from the chair between us with an unsteady voice.

She says nothing, just walks past me and Emmett whom I can still feel behind me. I'm surprised he hasn't run for help. I know that Suicide Girl will and so I must act quickly.

I close in on my prey. "How noble of you, sparing innocent little Angela from the big bad wolf. Too bad it won't save you," I taunt.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Edward. We can sit down and talk if you'd like, I'm here to listen." He gestures to the chair Suicide Girl previously occupied. I'm past talking.

"Listen to him, little bro. He has no idea why your here so he couldn't have done it. You know Doc's a terrible liar," Emmett tried to reason.

"No," I call back to him over my shoulder, "He touched her. He hurt her. I have to protect her."

The doctor's eyes go wide. "Is-is Emmett here with us, Edward? Is he telling you this is a bad idea?" He shaking all over, not quite so high and mighty as he once was.

At the edge of his desk sits a medium sized mountain lion figure on a solid stand. I pick it up tossing it back and forth in my hands to feel it's weight. Heavy enough. "You told me not to listen to Emmett," I remind him. He backs up further into the wall of books behind him. I notice there are gaps on both sides of his desk making it easy for him to escape. He whimpered when I dive the whole thing to the right and skip through the gap on the left.

"I was wrong," he admits out of fear sinking further away from me, "I should have never tried to come between you and your brother. I know that now." He's already dead, does he know that too?

Emmett tries again to reach me. "He doesn't know anything. Are you going to left another innocent man die at your hand? He still thinks this is about me."

"He's lying!" I shout, "Bella told me so."

"Edward, Bella's sick and she's manipulating you. You're too smart to fall for this. I never hurry her, she hurts herself," Carlisle's tries to explain. It sounds like the desperate plea of a pedophile.

"That's what they all say!" I scream finally lunging for him as he drops to the floor. He's trying to escape by crawling under the desk but I won't allow it. I scale over the top and land on his back on the other side. "She did it to herself, she was asking for it, she deserved it, she raped me! It's all the same, just the useless slander of a dirty old man trying to blame his depravity on those weaker than him." I grab his arm and flip him to face me. I want to see the terror is his eyes.

"Edward, please," he begs.

"Did she beg, Carlisle?" I ask as the blunt stand of the figurine in my hand collides with the side of his face, "Did she beg for you to stop, to leave what innocence she had intact? Did you listen when she told you no?" I scream hitting him all the while but he's holding on longer than I thought. Help will be here soon.

As if on que I hear a voice that is not mine, nor Emmett's, nor the doctors. "He did this to me," she whispers egging me on. She's stepped into the room and I've halted my blows as the doctor and I both look at her.

"Bella," I sigh.

"Tell him the truth," the doctor orders her, "Tell him what you did to Claire."

She looks stunned and I know she has no idea what he's talking about. I drop the figurine and wrap my hands around his neck. It's better that he doesn't talk. His face goes red as he struggles. "You lie!" I yell.

"Tell him...about...Emily..." he gasps and I tighten my grip even more.

I hear sobs from but I don't look. She too fragile. Then, she speaks. "No, it wasn't me," she cries. He hurting her now and not even touching her. I hate him for this. "It was Sam. He shifted and she was too close. We didn't know he was a werewolf," she whimpers more as Carlisle goes limp and I turn my attention from his body to hers.

"Bella," I ask knowing that I've misheard her.

"No, Jacob's a werewolf. He hurt her. Sam's coming for me." Everything is jumbled. But everything is true. "Claire...Leah was just teaching her to swim, she said it was an accident but that I couldn't tell. She was going to get in trouble." She shook her head violently hitting it as I crawled to herbody now sitting in the corner. "No, Quil took her. She was his imprint and he said it wasn't safe for them. Was he a werewolf?"

"Shh," I say easing her with my hands, "It's okay, Bella. Your sick but I can fix this." Like with the doctor I wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze.

The only only difference is that she doesn't fight back. Her eyes lock on mine and she lies back against the floor. She wants this. She wants me to take her life, to be dead like me. Forever I will give her what she wants.

I hold on long after her breathing stops. Just to be sure.

**A/N: Yeah, it got dark in here but you all knew it would. If you haven't had a chance yet please check out my new story Unconditional. It's the Edward/Bella/Emmett love story told from beginning to end with many beautiful stops along the way. The first chapter is a little long winded but the rest is not so much. I'll update when I can and as always... You guys are the best.**

**Ember.**


	16. And In Conclusion

**Disclaimer: **I am not Stephenie Meyer nor do I lay claim to her or any of her accomplishments.

I am, however, Emberlyn Ealise and the story created here belongs to me. It is not to be quoted or duplicated in anyway without permission. Plagiarism is stealing and should be treated as such. Other than that, enjoy.

**Lines on Paper**

**By Emberlyn Ealise**

On another day, in another crowded lunchroom, sits another young girl. This room has no windows to stare out and few enough occupants that she doesn't look secluded just because she's sitting alone. On her table lies a familiar looking notebook which she fills with lines and dots but no words. And behind me I can hear the gossiping of the kitchen staff.

I'll have to pick a better seat tomorrow.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"Do you really have to ask? He's been all over the news for months."

"I heard he killed somebody."

"Try two somebodies."

"Really?"

"Yeah, beating his brother to death with one of his mom's knick-knacks is what got him locked up in the first place."

"I think I caught part of that on the news. It was over some girl or something, right?"

"Sort of, he was in an accident that caused some brain damage that no one caught. I think they skimmed over it since there were no visible signs of trauma. I'm not really sure but from what I've seen of his file he had hallucinations, thought that his brother's fiance was his."

I hear the audible gasp of one of the twits.

"Yeah, then he catches the two of them in passionate embrace and thinks that his brother is raping her so he attacks. The girl got away physically unharmed but his brother didn't stand a chance."

"That's terrible."

"Could you imagine being the girl? Knowing that your fiancé died that night and you just ran? And that he was killed because of you?"

"I'm surprised she didn't end up in a mental hospital."

"Straight from the pages of the devil's book, he is."

"Then what happened?"

"I guess his parents couldn't live with people thinking their son was a murderer so they had him examined and locked up it some minimum security hospital in Washington saying that he wasn't a danger as long as he was medicated."

"I guess he proved them wrong."

"That's the understatement of the year."

They both laugh awkwardly at my expense.

"I know some of the story after that. He met that Swan girl who was like a mixture of schizophrenic and a pathological liar or something, right? Then they started dated and she filled him with all kinds of ideas until he killed her."

"Where do you get this stuff from? Internet blogs."

A grin spreads across my lips just in time for the dark haired Bree Tanner to look up at me from her notebook.

"You're right on all counts but you miss all the juicy details. So, Masen was in therapy with Dr. Cullen because he was being haunted by his brothers ghost-"

"That's the doctor he attacked, right?"

"The very same. Now, Swan was also seeing Dr. Cullen but she was in denial. She was sure that she wasn't sick, blamed everything on everyone else including Masen. When Cullen tried to come between them Swan started accusing him of taking a 'hands on' approach to her."

"So, once again, Masen thought he was protecting her."

"Mhmm. When he went to confront Cullen there was another patient in the office who ran for help but made a pit stop at Swan's room so she was the first on the scene."

One of them scoffs. "That seems reasonable. My doctor's being pummeled by a patient, I should go get the psycho's girlfriend."

"If their brains worked like ours did they wouldn't be here." They stop gossiping for a minute but then got right back to it. "No one knows for sure how the switch was made since all Masen would say was that she lied but somehow the doctor ended up passed out on the floor and Swan was dead, her whole throat crushed."

"It's kind of a twisted Romeo & Juliet, is it not?"

"If they only knew," whispers the beautiful angel at my side.

She's been with me ever since the day; she even made amends with Emmett. Their silent war was really getting on my nerves but things have gotten much better. She laughs at his jokes; he makes fun of her drawings. It's like we're a family now.

"How long do you think it'll take for the newness to wear off? We've been here for over a month now," I ask her wondering when I can return to blending into the scenery.

She laughs, "Enjoy it now, Masen. You're a hot commodity." Her laugh is as enticing as ever.

We like this school much better despite everyone looking at us like we're the rapists in a debtor's prison. There are no one-on-one sessions with a doctor, though it also eliminates the chances of us ever getting out, and there aren't any classes or group sessions of any kind. There's a gym to work out and a library to read as well as movie to watch but no one is required to do anything. I think of it as a lockbox they've put us in to wait until we die. What's the sense in educating or regulating people who will never get out?

Still, we prefer it this way. Everything we ever wanted is here, my brother, my love, mystery meatloaf.

Bella is doodling away next to me providing me with an excellent view of her work at the same time. It's an athletic version of Emmett, complete with shoulder pads and grass stains, alongside a cheerleader version of Bree and her 'pom-poms'. Currently Emmett is laying on every line in the book to get her to crack a smile but to no avail. She's as impervious too him as Suicide Girl was though without the steroid using boyfriend.

He returns to us dragging his wounded pride behind him.

"Struck out?" I ask, unable to hide my smirk.

"Edward," Bella chides but it's already out there.

"She's one of those musically types," he grumbles, "At least, that's the kind of stuff she working on now," he huffs pooping into the seat next to me sandwiching my body between he and Bella's. I know he misses Suicide Girl but I'd hoped Bree would be to him what Bella is to me. I even mused myself into thinking she was an artist too.

I turn to Bella. "I guess it was wishful thinking to believe she could be like you."

She smiles up at me beautifully. "She could be." All three of us turn our eyes to the unsuspecting girl causing her to blush furiously before going back to her notebook. "After all, they're just lines on paper."

**A/N: Fin! I've been dying to write this part ever since I started. Usually it's tough for me to bring something to an end but this one was ready and so was I. I hope you liked it and sometime in the near future I will be doing a rewrite to fix grammatical errors as well as add more twists and turns that didn't make it in the rough draft. Don't forget to review and check out my other stories when you can.**


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